“Delighted to make your acquaintance,” she announced, in a loud, robust voice, and with emphasis, as though she wanted it understood that she wasn't fooling, but meant exactly what she said. She shook his hand, giving it a virile grip.
Miss Tillie Morgenthau was a young lady of eighteen or twenty, taller than her mother, exceedingly taper in the waist, and of an exceedingly fresh complexion; decidedly a pretty girl, with plenty of waving black hair, a pair of bright blue eyes, a shapely red mouth, and a generous provision of tiny teeth, regular and of pearly whiteness.
“Oh, I suppose Mr. Bacharach don't remember me,” she said, pouting playfully. She pronounced the personal pronoun I, like the interjection Ah.
“Oh, on the contrary,” protested Elias, trying hard to remember whether he had ever seen her before.
“Now, Ah'm perfectly sure you don't,” she insisted. “But All'll tell you. It was at the Advance Club, winter before last. Mr. Greenleaf introduced you to me—Charley Greenleaf. Do you belong to the Advance?”
No, Elias said; he was not a member of any club.
“Well, now,” called out Mr. Koch, to the company generally, “now that the baby's gone to bed, I propose that we adjourn to the summer-house, and try to get cooled off.”
An exodus at once began; and presently they were all established, a picturesque, free-and-easy group, upon the stoop. Elias found himself at Miss Tillie's side.
“Fearfully hot, isn't it?” she observed.
“Very, indeed,” agreed Elias.