“No more than eighteen wars going,” muttered Henslowe.
“I haven't seen any papers for an age.... How do you mean?”
“People are fighting to beat the cats everywhere except on the' western front,” said Henslowe. “But that's where I come in. The Red Cross sends supply trains to keep them at it.... I'm going to Russia if I can work it.”
“But what about the Sorbonne?”
“The Sorbonne can go to Ballyhack.”
“But, Henny, I'm going to croak on your hands if you don't take me somewhere to get some food.”
“Do you want a solemn place with red plush or with salmon pink brocade?”
“Why have a solemn place at all?”
“Because solemnity and good food go together. It's only a religious restaurant that has a proper devotion to the belly. O, I know, we'll go over to Brooklyn.”
“Where?”