"I've not thrown it away. Cluness would say that if it made them happier according to their lights it was well invested. I hate the charity that means only medicines, clean sheets, new shoes and sewerage. Let 'em be happy in their own way." There could be no doubt that the three blind men were happy. They loaded their table with spring chickens, Gotha truffles, beefsteaks, and all manner of "alcoholic beverages," till the zinc disappeared beneath the accumulation of plates and bottles. They drank each other's health and they pledged that of Leander, standing up. The Dutchman ordered: "Zwei Billzner more alreatty." The lavender man drank his warmed white wine with gasps of infinite delight, and after the second whiskey bottle had been opened, the Indian began to say strange and terrible things in his own language.
Cluness came in and beamed on them.
"See how happy you've made them, Leander," he said gratefully. "They'll always remember this night."
"They always will," said Leander solemnly.
"I've got to go though," said Cluness. I made as if to go with him but Leander plucked my coat under the table. I caught his eye.
"I guess we two will stay," said I. Cluness left, thanking us again and again.
"I don't know what it is," said I seriously to Leander, "but to-night you seem to me to be too good to be wholesome."
"I," said Leander, blankly. "But I suppose I should expect to be misjudged."
Just then the Kanaka woman came over to give us our check.
"This is on me," said Leander, but he was so slow in fumbling for his purse that I was obliged, in all decency, to pay.