“Nothing of the sort,” said King O’Leary, but so gruffly that Tootles was confirmed in the idea that his guess had some pertinency.
“He’s been buying diamonds for Myrtle,” said Flick suspiciously.
“Well, here it is,” said King O’Leary, depositing a collection of bills and change upon the table. “What’ll we do with it?”
To his shame, Tootles, who had bourgeois inclinations, suggested that they should save it against the daily ache of the stomach.
“Never!” said Flick, with a withering look. “We have lived like dead-game sports, and we must end with a bang and not with a trickle.”
“Shake!” said King O’Leary.
“Well, what?” said Tootles glumly. “Oh, you fellows can grin; but I know what’s going to happen to me. That confounded money-eating little flirt of a Pansy will give me the royal shake the moment she gets wise.” When Tootles had a grief or a woe, he confided it to the world. “By Jove, I’ve made a fool enough of myself, running after her, when all I had to do was to sit quiet and condescend to let her feed out of my hand! Damn that Portuguese, Drinkwater! It was bad enough before—but now, O Lord!”
“I shall break my engagement to Belle,” said Flick facetiously. “Thank Heaven for one thing, she won’t come around any more.”
“We’ve wasted too much time, anyhow,” said King O’Leary, mistaking the sincerity of these professions. “As for me, I feel like getting back to doing something. I tell you what we’ll do: We’ll take the girls out once more, give them the greatest razzle-dazzle blowout they have ever seen, and then, when their eyes are bulging out and they are ready to melt in our arms, we’ll say, ‘Ladies, adoo forever!’”