"Some class to me, eh, kiddo?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that."
He leaned closer. His smile had an uplift like a crescent and a slight depression in his left cheek, too low for a dimple, twinkled when he smiled, like an adjacent star.
"Take it from me, Queenie, these glad rags are my stock in trade. In my line I got to sport them. At home I'm all to the overalls. If my boss was to see the old red wool smoking-jacket I wear around the house, he'd fire me for burlesquing the business."
"Well, of all the nerve! Let go my hand."
"Didn't know I had it, little one."
"And say, you give back that kodak picture you swiped off me yesterday.
I don't give my photographs out promiscuous."
"That little snap-shot of you? Nix, I will! I took that home and hung it in a mother-of-pearl frame right over the parlor table."
"Sure! And above the family Bible, huh? I had a fellow once tell me he was a bookmaker, and I was green enough then to beg him to take me out and let me see him make 'em. But I've learnt a thing or two about you and your kind since then, Charley-boy."
"You come out to-night and I'll show it to you myself."