Ah, Noll; and there is one who watches for thee, sitting alone, her handsome head bowed by the midnight lamp to give thee welcome. She is thy one selfless friend—with brain whose verdict is worth all the splutterings of these bedraggled talents that sit about thy self-sufficient elbows!...
That was a rousing night at the tavern of The Scarlet Jackass.
The room was choked with the wild rioting bohemians.
“Waiter!”
“Waiter!”
“Waiter!”
“Yes, sir—mon Dieu!—one minute—one minute.”
The waiters rushed to and fro, perspiring, white aprons flying.
The glass went round.
So the place roared with laughter and riot and noisy good-fellowship and song.