"That's easy; there isn't a broker in New York who doesn't want a high pink finish, and I've been doing brokers, actors, millionaires, bank clerks, and Sixth Avenue swells in this hotel for three years." He laughed delightedly, his eyes almost disappearing behind a fretwork of fine wrinkles. "What makes you know I'm a tape-puller, kiddo? Durned if you ain't got my number better than I got it myself." "I can tell a broker from a business man as easy as I can tell a five-carat diamond from a gilt-edge bond." He slid farther down on his chair and regarded her with genuine approval. "Say, kiddo, I've been all round the world--took a trip through Egypt in my car last spring that I could write a book about; but I ain't seen nothin' in the way of skirts that could touch you with a ten-foot rod." She flushed. "Oh, you fellows are such jolliers!" "On the level, kiddo, you're preferred stock all right, and I'd be willin' to take a flyer any time." "Say, Mr. Barker, you'd better quit stirring the candy, or it will turn to sugar." "Lemme tell you, Miss Gertie, I ain't guyin', and I'll prove it to you. I'm goin' to take you out in the swellest little ninety-horse-power speedwagon you ever seen; if you'll gimme leave I'll set you and me up to-night to the niftiest little dinner-party on the island, eh?" She filed rapidly at his thumb, bringing the nail to a pointed apex. "I'm very careful about accepting invitations, Mr. Barker." "Don't you think I can tell a genteel goil when I see her? That's why I ain't asked you out the first time I seen you." She kept her eyes lowered. "Of course, since you put it that way, I'll be pleased to accept your invitation, Mr. Barker." He struck the table with his free hand. "You're a live un, all right. How about callin' round fer you at six this evenin'?" She nodded assent. "Good goil! We'll keep the speedometer busy, all right!" She skidded the palms of her hands over his nails. "There," she said, "that's not a bad shine." He straightened his hands out before him and regarded them in mock scrutiny. "Those are some classy grabbers," he said; "and you're some classy little woiker." He watched her replace the crystal stoppers in their several bottles and fit her various commodities into place. She ranged the scissors and files in neat graduated rows and blew powder particles off the cover with prettily pursed lips. "That'll be about all, Mr. Barker." He ambled reluctantly out from his chair. "You'll be here at six, then?" "Will I be here at six, sis? Say, will a fish swim?" He fitted his cap carefully upon his head and pulled the vizor low over his eyes. "So long, kiddo!" He crossed the marble corridor, stepped into the gold elevator, the filigree door snapped shut, and he shot upward. Miss Ethyl waited a moment and then pitched her voice to a careful note of indifference. "I'll bet the million-dollar kid asked you to elope with him."