"Oh, yessen, missen. Me talken ze English and but very gooden. Me learnen ze human talken at Mars Porten. Don't I talk him gooden?" The last was directed at Ronson.
"You speak him very wonderfullen," Ronson answered. The waiter beamed.
"Bring the gentleman a mariwaukee," the girl said.
"Oh, yessen, missen."
"On second thought, make it a double shot," the girl said. "The gentleman looks like he needs it." She nodded brightly to Ronson as if she had selected the very medicine he needed. "Now tell me what you are doing on Mars, Dr. Ronson?"
Ronson glanced hastily at the waiter, to make certain that he was out of earshot. "I—I came here on a vacation," he said firmly and loudly. "I've wanted to see Mars ever since I was a kid. Who—ah—was sitting here with you before I came?"
"A man," she answered. "He went to the little boy's room just before you got into trouble in the street. I guess he's still there, if some Martian hasn't slit his throat. Are you enjoying your vacation?"
"Of course."
"Do you mind if I call you Jim?" She smiled at him.
"I would be very pleased."