Ladies & Gents Parlors.
Three wooden steps, rotted by the weather, descended past the food bulletins into a sanded room. It was in this underground resort, with its rough clients, that Fargus had served his apprenticeship, faithfully his master and his master's daughter, pretty Nell O'Hara, who had jilted him for the privilege of maintaining the present Mr. Biggs in idleness among his bottles. Fargus descended the familiar steps and entered. Never once did he return to the presence of his first love without a pang of mortification that all the triumphs of his changed fortune could not obliterate.
A ponderous woman on whose expanding trunk time had recorded each successive year was behind the counter. Of the charm that once was Nell's nothing remained but a certain reminiscent prettiness of the face.
Fargus, who entered as a conqueror, took his seat at the counter, asking maliciously, as he never failed to do:
"And how's your man, Nell?"
"AND HOW'S YOUR MAN, NELL?"
"The same," she answered, as though the simple statement required no explanation. "And are you doin' well, Mr. Fargus?"
"I bought another restaurant, Nell," he said. "Yes, I'm doin' well. It's a little larger than the old place."