"I always like this place; it reminds me so much of the back of the drug store in Emporia."
"Then you are from the West, Miss De Vear."
"Oh, yes, indeed, I'm a Western girl pure and simple—"
"You said, 'pure and simple,' did you not?"
"I most certainly did, and I'd like to see the party that's got anything on me. I come from a dead swell family, I do. I may be only a poor chorus girl, but by gosh! I was brung up right. Did you know that I was featured for three seasons in the church choir in my home town and would have had it for life if the stage manag—I mean the choirmaster hadn't forgot he was a gentleman; so I just quit rather than cause talk. Why, would you believe it?—my father was mayor of Emporia for nearly two terms. You'd be surprised if I told you my real name and some of the people I am related to. Say, what are you going to do with that book? Trying to dope out whether you can buy another drink, I suppose."
"No. I'm just keeping track of the girls I met whose fathers are mayors of towns. I've got forty-seven for Providence, R.I., fifteen for Peoria, Ill., ten for Atlanta, Ga., and your two makes seven for Emporia. I've got fifty-three for chief of police, twenty-one fire captains, and eleven postmas—"
"Excuse me, but are you trying to infer that I am telling an untruth?"
"Oh, forget it! Can't you stand a little jolly without going up in the air?"
"Well, I'll accept your apology, but I don't like to have people casting slurs on my pa and ma, and beer wont appease my wrath when I feel like a highball.
"Go as far as you like. I was only ordering what I thought you were accustomed to."