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Cleone, tell the gemmemen your real name! Well, I'll tell it for you. Sadie Mosher, sister to the great Felix Mosher who played heavy down at Shefsky's theater for twenty years. Goy! Say, Sammie, it's too bad a nut from the bug-house bought the Brooklyn Bridge to-day or I'd try to sell it to you."
Loeb's risibilities that he dropped his hand over Miss Cleone St. Claire's, completely covering yet not touching it. "You're a scream, kiddo! Gee! I like you!" She drank with her chin flung up and her throat very white. "Bubbles! Bubbles! God bless all my troubles!" "Well, I'll be darned!" said Mr. Kahn, smiling at her. "The gemmemen from out of town?" "St. Louis."
"I fell for those bouncing black curls of yours before I was in the place five minutes." At that there was an incredible flow of baby talk. "Gemmemen ike ikkie gurl wiz naughty-naughty black curl-curlies?" "You bet your life I do," said Mr. Loeb, unashamed of comprehension. Mr. Kahn flashed another look at his watch. "Say, don't you know, you girls oughtn't to keep us boys up so late.
"Yah, it's my New-Year's resolution to tell the truth for thirty minutes if I'm bounced for it. If you got to know it, it's a ten-per-cent. rake-off for us girls on every bottle of golden vichy you boys blow us to." "Honest, Sylvette, you're wearing scrambled eggs instead of brains to-night. Why don't you cry a few brinies for the gemmemen while you're at it!" That so quickened Mr.
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