From the void below a determined voice answered her back:
“No, I didn’t, but by Judas Priest, I’m goin’ to now!”
§ 208 Making It Unanimous
A few years ago Colonel Hal Corbett, one of my oldest friends, came up from the South to stay a week with me in New York. Three of us, all old cronies of his but all living in the North, met him at the train.
At his suggestion we dropped into the café of the Imperial Hotel on Broadway. Hotels had cafés in those days, and Corbett was thirsty, he said. We lined up at the bar, facing a genial gentleman in a white jacket and a white apron.
Now it so happened that at the moment all three of us, for one reason or another, were riding on the well-known water wagon—a circumstance of which Corbett was not aware and probably one which he had never dreamed could be possible.
He turned to me:
“What’s it going to be?” he asked genially.
I said:
“A glass of buttermilk.”