crêpe high over her knees. A ruby set in platinum flashed its fire below her elbow. Her head was encased in a cloche of emerald-green.
As she returned to her table amidst a flurry of applause and laughter, the waiter bore in a bucket of ice from which a bottle-neck protruded. The manager of the Winter Palace, a dapper fellow, joined them.
Well, he exclaimed, I'm delighted. How's the little lady tonight?
How are you, Danny? She shook his hand. Sit down and meet Mr. Kasson.
My compliments. He lounged into the seat beside her. Delighted to see the little lady again. When you come in the lights are brighter and the band really works.
Behave, Danny. Say, has Sid been here? Her brow was clouded by a frown.
Not yet.
Don't let him in, see!
I get you.
Well, fill up! Lasca poured out the glasses. Then, raising her own, she proposed, Tea for three!
Byron emptied his glass at one swallow.
Got any happy dust, Danny? Lasca inquired.
Anything the little lady wants.
Send Myra to the lady's room.
Lasca preceded the vendor. Danny whistled until he attracted the attention of the cigarette-girl who nodded in reply to his signal.
