Miss St. Claire sat back against her chair; her black eyes had quieted. "If you ain't kidding you must be crazy with the heat or dr--" "Look at my glass. Have I touched it?" "The man's raving, Syl! Wants to marry me and take me back to St. Louis, Thursday." "Cut the comedy and come! Herm, it's getting on to three in the morning." "This little girl keeps thinking I'm kidding, Blondey. I always knew if I ever fell for matrimony it would be just like this. Right off the reel. No funny business. Just bing! Bang! Done!" "Catch me while I swoon--but he sounds on the level, Cleone." "Well, what if he is? Of all the nerve! Whatta you know about me? How do you know I haven't got three kids and a crippled husband at home? How do you know--?" "I know, little Jingle Bells! Why, I was as sure of you, the minute I clapped eyes on you, as if we'd been raised next door to each other. I can see right down in your little life like it was this glass of wine." Miss St. Claire threw out her arms in a beautiful and sleepy gesture. "Well, boys, this is a nice little party, but I got to get up at three o'clock to-morrow afternoon, and I need the sleep. Oh, how I love my morning sleep!" She drew back, her bare outflung arm pushing her from the table. "If you'll call me and my room-mate a taxi--" "No, you don't, Jingle Bells!" He placed a hand that trembled slightly on the sleeved part of her arm. She opened wider her very wide black eyes. "Are you bats?" she said. "I'm going to marry you and take you home with me, if I have to carry you off like a partridge." "Cleone, I tell you the man means it!" "You're right, Blondey. I never meant anything more in my life." A sudden shortness of manner crept over Mr. Kahn. "Man, you're drunk!" he cried, springing to his feet. "See my glass!" "Then you're crazy!" "Sit down, old Baldy. Why's he crazy? That little room-mate of mine is as straight a little girl as--" "Why, I tell you he's crazy! That man's the head of a big business. He can't kick up any nonsense like this. Come on, Herm, cut the comedy. It's time we were getting across to our hotel. Look at the crowd thinning, and what's left is getting rough. Come!" "If you don't know how to behave yourself, Sam, in the presence of these ladies, maybe you better go back to the hotel alone. I'm going to see these young ladies to their door, and before we go me and this little girl are going to understand each other." Mr. Kahn sat down again in some stupefaction. "Well, of all the nerve! Who are you? Whatta you think I am? Syl, what's his game?" Miss De Long thrust forward her tired and thinning face; her eyes had a mica gleam. "Cleone, he wants to marry you. A decent man with a decent face from a decent town has taken a shine to you and wants to marry you. M-a-r-r-y! Do you get it, girl?" "How do you know he's decent? I don't know no more about him than he knows about me. I--"