“Tell me where you dine.”
“At Angrezini’s. It’s a little restaurant ... with a nigger band. And you sing between the courses.”
“Will Mr. Sixsmith be there?”
“My dear, Mr. Sixsmith and I don’t live together any more.”
“Forgive me.”
“That’s all right....”
Miss Sinquier’s eyes grew dim.
“Used he to act?” she asked.
“Act!”
“I seem to have heard of him.”