Ambassador, Ambrose experienced a sense of relief, realizing as he did that the events of the next hour might settle his future, and secure for him the freedom of action he so much desired. He would surely be considered a sorry candidate for the construction of picture stories and by night it was conceivable he might be well on his way back to New Mexico and the soothing, if somewhat cynical, companionship of Jack Story.
Stepping out of the taxi, he reached for his pocketbook to pay the chauffeur when he was startled to hear the starter exclaim, And how are you today, you broth of a boy?
Pretty well, thank you, he responded shyly at this unexpected reminder that Dion Boucicault had once written plays, as he stared in amazement at the ruddy-cheeked Irishman of middle age who had greeted him.
It's a pleasure to see you again looking yourself and that's no lie I'm after telling you. An' for whom might you be calling today?
Miss Auburn Six, Ambrose replied, handing the man a dollar and wondering if he should make it five.
Thank you, sir. Sure and Miss Six lives in Siesta, the man explained. An' would you be knowing the way?
