"Don't mention it," says I. "I ain't got any personal grudge against Mr. Bloom; but I've been achin' to see someone hand him a pat, just for greens. There's my name on the door."
"Oh!" says the young woman. "Then you're Professor McCabe? Well, we're the Morans, Millie and Tim. Tango is our line."
I can see Elisha P. shudder visible at that. He hesitates a second, and then comes to the front. "McCabe," says he, "I feel that I must protest. An assault was committed in your presence. As a law-abiding citizen it should be your duty to turn the offender over to the authorities instead of furnishing a hiding place."
"Now listen to that!" says I. "All right, Mr. Bayne, if you insist. But you go along as a witness too."
"In a police court!" he gasps. "Why—really, you know, I—I couldn't do such a thing."
"Case quashed then," says I. "I'm too bashful to go alone."
"But you know," says he, "I came here merely on a matter of business."
"Yes, we'll get to that pretty soon," says I. "Our friends here are only goin' to stop until the travelin' is safer." Then I turns to the Morans. "Dancers, eh!" says I. "Where have you been on?"
"Nowhere," says Millie. "We're tryin' to break in."
"Oh!" says I. "Candidates for amateur night?"