THE ANGEL. (haughtily, turning) Sir! Are you addressing me?
THE POLICEMAN. (severely) Yes, an' I've a good mind to lock you up.
THE ANGEL. (surprised and indignant) How very inhospitable! Is that the way you treat strangers?
THE POLICEMAN. Don't you know it's agen the law of New York to parade the streets in a masquerade costume?
THE ANGEL. No. I didn't know. You see, I've just arrived this minute from Heaven.
THE POLICEMAN. Ye look it. (Taking his arm kindly) See here, me lad, you've been drinkin' too many of them stingers. Ye'd better take a taxi and go home.
THE ANGEL. What! So soon?
THE POLICEMAN. I know how ye feel. I've been that way meself. But I can't leave ye go traipsin' about in skirts.
THE ANGEL. (drawing away) Sir, I'm not traipsing about. I am attending to important business, and I must ask you not to detain me.
THE POLICEMAN. (suspiciously) Not so fast, me laddie-buck. What business have you at this hour of the night? Tell me that.