Slug blew out his cheeks. “You got somethin’ there, pal,” he said. “I got a hundred bucks towards it. Hell! I didn’t know this joint went in for daylight robbery.”
“Monsieur is mistaken. We have never had any trouble before with our bills. Perhaps monsieur shouldn’t have come.”
Slug nodded miserably. “I guess you’re right,” he said. “The dame wanted to come, so I just fell for it. What are you goin’ to do—send for the cops?”
The head waiter glanced round quickly, then he slid a twenty-five dollar note on to the plate. “Perhaps monsieur would accept a loan?” he suggested. “I have been in similar situations myself when young.”
Slug gaped at him. “Gee!” he said at last. “Why, hell, that’s white of you. You’ll get it back, pal, you’ll get it back all right.”
The head waiter lifted his shoulders. “If monsieur will now settle his bill, I will call a taxi.”
Slug hurriedly dropped the hundred dollars on the plate and stood up. He had exactly two dollars left in his pocket. “Sure,” he said, “I guess I won’t be around here any more.”
The head waiter bowed. “Monsieur would be a lot happier somewhere else, no doubt,” he said, and went away, holding the plate before him.
The band had stopped playing and Rose was coming back to the table. The tall, handsome guy was laughing and talking with her. They looked very happy. However, as they approached he caught Slug’s eye and decided that perhaps it would be wiser to retire, and with a few words to Rose he disappeared into the crowd that was surging back to their tables.
Rose sat down. “I hope you didn’t mind,” she said gaily; “he could dance. Isn’t this a lovely evening? Is there any more champagne left?”