"Indeed it don't! It's lost her more places than my other two, married now, ever lost put together. You work in the Criterion?" "Yes'm. Children's shoes." "I bet you're not the kind of a girl to change places every week." "No'm. Criterion is the only place I ever worked at. I started there as Cash." "I bet you give up at home out of your envelop." "Yes'm." "Father?" "No'm. He was a night watchman and got shot on duty." "Mother?" "Yes'm." "Brother?" "No'm." "Sister?" "No'm." "Only child, huh?" "Yes'm." Then Miss Cobb blew up in a state of breathless haste and bobbing of curls. "Eats, maw--eats! The crowd's thirsty--spittin' cotton. What's the idea? My tongue's out. Eats! Quick, for Gawsakes--eats!" Mrs. Cobb, wide and quivery of hip, retreated precipitately into the slit of hallway. Almost immediately there were refreshments, carried in on portentous black tin trays by a younger Cobb in pigtails and by Mrs. Cobb, swayback from a great outheld array of tumblers and bottles. A shout went up. The tray of sandwiches, piled to an apex, scarcely endured one round of passing. The fluted tin tops of bottles were pried off. Tumblers clicked. There were the sing of suds and foamy overflowings. Enter Mr. Ed Kinealy, very brown and tight of suit, very black and pomaded of hair. "Oh, Ed!" This from Miss Kinealy between large mouthfuls of sandwich and somewhat jerkily from being dandled on Mr. Sensenbrenner's knee, "Where's your friend--where's John Gilly?" "Oh, Ed!" "Naouw, Eh-ud!" "I'll give you a slap on the wrist." "Naouw, Ed!" Delivered by those present in a chorus of catcalls and falsetto impersonations of Miss Kinealy in plaintive vein. "Now tell me--where is he, Ed? Shut up every body! Where is he, Ed?" Mr. Kinealy shot a pair of very striped cuffs. "That guy had sense. One whiff of this roughhouse and he bolted down again, six steps at a jump. He slipped me so easy I was talking to myself all the way up-stairs. That guy had sense. Petticoat shush-shush can't put nothing over on him." "Aw, Ed!" CHORUS: Aw, Eh-ud! Aw, Eh-ud! Naouw-- "And him dated for Stella! Honest, it's a rotten shame!" Suddenly Miss Kinealy flashed to her feet, her glance running quick. "Where is she? Well, Stella Schump, sitting over there playing chums with yourself! Honest, your name ought to be Chump! Whatta you think that is--the amen corner? You're a fine bunch of social entertainers, you fellows are! Bring her up a chair. Gee! you are! Honest, Gertie Cobb, I wouldn't want my cat to be company to you! Bring 'er up a chair, Ed. Here, next to me! Honest, it's a rotten shame! Give 'er a sandwich. Open 'er up a bottle. Gee! you're a fine crowd of fish, you are!" There was a general readjustment of circle and scraping of chairs. Miss Schump, scarlet, drew up and in, Mr. Kinealy prying off a fluted top for her. "Have this one on me, Stella!" he cried. "Your guy bolted of stage fright; but I'm here, and don't you forget it!"