“You was soused to the gills last night. I didn’t know when you’d show up at the studio–––”
“It was not just to me that you go to Sondheim in this so surprising manner, without informing me.” He looked at his cigar; the wrapper was broken and he licked the place with a fat tongue. “Elmer?”
“That’s me,” replied the other, who had been slyly watching him. “Spit it out, Angy. What’s on your mind?”
“I tell you, Elmer!”
Puma’s face became suddenly wreathed in guileless smiles: “Me, I am frank like there never––but no matter,” he added; “listen attentively to what I shall say to you secretly, that I also desire to be rid of this Red Flag Club.”
“Well, then–––”
“A moment! I am embarrass. Yes. You ask why? I shall tell you. It is this. Formerly I have reside in Mexico. My business has been in Mexico City. I have there a little cinema theatre. In 1913 I arrive in New York. You ask me why I came? And I am frank like––” his full smile burst on Skidder––“like a heaven angel! But it is God’s truth I came here to make of the cinema a monument to Art.”
“And make your little pile too, eh, Angy?”
“As you please. But this I affirm to you, Elmer; of politics I am innocent like there never was a cherubim! Yes! And yet your Government has question me. Why? you ask so naturally. My God! I know no one in New York. I arrive. I repair to a recommended hotel. I make acquaintance––unhappily––with people who are under a suspicion of German sympathy!”