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The Aura's not an ordin-ar-y bar and I'm not an ordin-ar-y man, and, say, Miss Sheila, you're not an ordin-ar-y girl." "Is that why you want me to work in your saloon?" said Sheila, staring at the star. "Yes'm. That's why. Let me tell you that I've searched this continent for a girl to fit my ideal. That's what it is, girl my ideal. That bar of mine has got to be perfect. It's near to perfect now.
I want when that Englishman comes back to Millings to hear him say, 'It's perfect' ... no 'all but, you notice. Why, miss, I could 'a' got a hundred ordin-ar-y girls, lookers too. The world's full of lookers." "Why didn't you offer your 'job' to Babe or Girlie?" Sylvester laughed. "Well, girl, as a matter of fact, I did." "You did?" Sheila turned back and faced him.
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