The neighborhood was not prepossessing; and neither was Joe’s; a common-looking place with two rows of long tables, ended against the wall, like a Bowery restaurant.
Elaine looked about her with bright eyes. “I have never eaten in such a place,” she said. “I shall love it!”
“It’s not really as bad as it looks,” said Wilfred. “The commonness is deliberate. It is designed to attract those who appreciate good food, but do not like to put on style.”
“What a good idea!” said Elaine.
“Well, I don’t know,” said Wilfred. “Joe is a little discouraged. Style seems to be in the ascendant; and good living on the wane!”
“I can plant my elbows on the table, and slump down anyhow,” said Elaine. “Do you think they will allow me to smoke?”
“We’ll hazard it.”
Wilfred insisted on ordering champagne.
“How silly in such a place!” objected Elaine.
“Oh, no!” he said. “Joe is prepared for it. . . . Besides champagne has a special virtue. It puffs one up.”