“Better cut the tea out, Joe,” he said curtly.
“But you haven’t seen the girl; if you had, you’d——”
“No, I haven’t seen the girl, and I don’t want to see the girl. Bad enough to give up a day’s work. We’ve got a lot to do, you know. A tea smashes the whole afternoon. Make it at night.”
“Too expensive. Must have something to eat, and maybe something to drink. Moses and his wife could work the hot-water-and-sandwiches racket, all right, but a supper, no—can’t see it—break us.”
“Well, make it a musicale, and send for Paul Lambing and his violin. I’ll do the piano. Maybe your girl can sing.”
“No; she can’t sing.”
“How do you know she can’t sing?”
“Because she don’t look like a girl who can sing. I can tell every time.”
“Well what does she look like?”
“She’s a perfect stunner, I tell you.”