John stroked an incipient mustache and stole a look into the glass.
"Looks like it," he said.
"If she were only a rich widow you wouldn't mind cultivating her acquaintance?"
"I wish she were," said John thoughtfully.
"You haven't any widow in view, have you?"
"Yes, I have," said John, rather to Oliver's surprise.
"Who is it?"
"Her husband used to keep a lager-beer saloon on Bleecker Street, and now the widow carries it on. I've enquired about, and I hear she's worth ten thousand dollars. Would you like to see her?"
"Very much," answered Oliver, whose curiosity was excited.
"Come along, then. We'll drop in and get a couple of glasses of something."