"Of course I followed you."
"Good. See you at the party, Terrible. You're hot stuff."
"I'll be there. G'night."
"G'night, Terrible, old scout."
§3
Mr. Epps emerged from Ye Amiable Oyster, walking with elaborate but difficult dignity. He had only a remote idea where he was, but he knew where he wanted to go—Steinbock's on Seventh Avenue. So with a temerity quite foreign to him he stepped up briskly to the first passing pedestrian and asked, "Say, frien', where's Sebble Abloo?"
The man accosted puckered a puzzled brow.
"I don't get you, frien'," he said.
"Sebble Abloo!" repeated Mr. Epps loudly, thinking the stranger's hearing might be defective.
"What?"