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Miss Delehanty flung the garment down the narrow length of the room. "Minneapolis don't know it, but after this showing he's going to blow me to the frappiest little lunch on the Waldorf roof." Miss Becker buttoned her flimsy blouse with three pearl beads down its front, wiping constantly at a constantly dampening brow.
"Why?" he said, suddenly awake, and shortly. "I worked for him nine years, I.W. I I know him." "How?" "I know him, I.W. She's too good for him." "How do you know him?" "I the girls, I.W. One little girl now, Cissie I I hear it all from my friend Delehanty sometimes she she writes to me.
There was more excitement than witnessed at the finish of a college boat-race, or a popular race between first-class thoroughbreds on some big track. The Suwanee’s last shot had struck right at the base of the flagstaff, and had blown it clear of the wreckage, which had held it from finishing its fall. “Well done!” signalled Admiral Sampson to Lieutenant-Commander Delehanty.
Miss Delehanty herself came cheaper. "Say, Hattie, don't let being an old man's darling go to your head. The grandchildren may issue an injunction." A flare of crimson rushed immediately over Miss Becker's face, spreading down into her neck. "You let him alone! He's a darn sight better than anything I've seen you girls picking for yourselves.
Miss Delehanty adjusted a highly eccentric hat, a small green velvet, outrageously tilted off the rear of its bandeau, and a wide black streamer flowing down over one shoulder. It was the match to the explosive effect of the trotteur gown. She was Fashion's humoresque, except that Fashion has no sense of humor. Very presently Minneapolis would appraise her at two hundred and seventy-five as is.
"Hurry along there with fifty-seven, Delehanty! Heyman's got to see the line and catch that six-two Chicago flier." Miss Delehanty fell into pose, her profile turned back over one shoulder. "Tell him to chew a clove; it's good for breathless haste," she said, disappearing through portieres into the show-room.
"Br-r-r!" she said, full of all men's awe at the carbon-dioxide paradox. "I'm so hot I'm cold!" Miss Clarice Delehanty slid out of a shower of tulle-of-gold dancing-frock and into an Avenue gown of rough serge. The tail of a very arched eyebrow threatened, and then ran down in a black rill. "If Niagara Falls was claret lemonade, You'd see me beat it to a watery grave."
If Delehanty is on his station now, watch us lose the laddy-buck on the motor-cycle!" They had reached a corner on lower Broadway, whence the home-going stream of humanity had long since disappeared like ants into the burrow of subway entrances, but where a burly traffic policeman still loomed bulkily in the middle of the thoroughfare.
Lieutenant-Commander Delehanty and Lieutenant Blue took their time. The Suwanee changed her position slightly. Then a puff of smoke shot out from her side, up went a shooting cloud of débris from the parapet, and down fell the banner of Spain. Such yells from the flag-ship will probably never be heard again.
Don pulled the drawing from the cardboard tube and unrolled it, holding it up for her to see. "Wooo," she said, "I used to be better lookin'." "You still good looking." "I like it." "I signed it here." He pointed. "Don Dela hanty," she read. "An original Delehanty. You hang on to it, maybe it will be worth something, someday." "What you mean?" He rolled the drawing and put it back in the tube.
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