"I ask you, Sam, is it an outrage? Twenty bucks for a table on the side!"
"No!"
"Is that highway robbery or not, I ask you!"
Mr. Samuel Kahn hitched at his belt, an indication of mental ferment.
"I wouldn't live in this town, not if you gave it to me!"
"It's not the money, Sam. What's twenty dollars more or less on a business trip, and New-Year's Eve at that? But it's the principle of the thing. I hate to be made a good thing of!"
"Twenty bucks!"
"Yes, and like he was doing me a favor, that Louis Slups kyin the box-office who used to take tickets in our Olympic at home. Somebody at the last minute let go of his reservation or we couldn't have got a table."
"Twenty bucks, and we got to feel honored yet that they let us sit at a table to buy a dinner! But say, Herm, it's a great sight, ain't it?"
"There's only one little old New York! Got to hand it to this town—they're a gang of cut-throats, but they do things up brown. A little of it goes a long ways, but I always say a trip to New York isn't complete without a night at the Moncrieff Roof. You sit here, Sam, facing the stage."