“Yes.”
“You don’t remember her name, do you?”
I said, “No.”
“Carmen was over here, wasn’t she — tonight?”
“Yes.”
He drew up a chair, sat down, and said. “She’s a great girl, Carmen. Winthrop’s my name.” He shoved his hand across the table at me.
I shook his hand and said, “My name is Donald.”
He smiled and said, “I understand. Glad to know you, Donald. My first name is Bartsmouth. My friends call me Bart. How about another drink — this one on the house?”
I said, “That would be swell.”
He nodded to a waiter and said, “Fill the gentleman’s glass. I’ll take straight whisky. Did we treat you all right here before, Donald?”