As soon as he reached Schindler & Baum's office he rang up the Goldblatt house, assuming for that purpose a high tenor voice lest Goldblatt himself answer the 'phone; but again fortune favoured him, and it was Birdie who responded.
"Birdie," he said, "do me the favour and come to lunch with me at the Park Row Building."
"Why so far downtown?" Birdie asked.
"Reasons I got it," Philip replied. "Come at twelve o'clock at the Park Row Building, sure."
Thus it happened at quarter past twelve Philip and Birdie sat at a table in the Park Row Building in such earnest conversation that a tureenful of soup remained unserved before them at a temperature of seventy degrees.
"An engagement party ain't nothing to me," Philip cried. "What do I care for such things?"
"But it's something to me, Philip," Birdie declared. "Think of the presents, Philip."
"Presents!" Philip repeated. "What for presents would we get it? Bargains in cut glass what would make our flat look like a five-and-ten-cent store."
"But Popper would be crazy if I did a thing like that," Birdie protested. "And, besides, I ain't got no clothes."
"Why, you look like a—like a—now—queen," Philip exclaimed. "And, anyhow, what would you want new clothes for when you got this?"