They weren't too late for their appointment. Mona met them at the car and they rode across the park to Easter's apartment. It was an engagement made that afternoon at the Vienna Café. Mona went to see Easter at intervals, but, as she had promised, Milt was to be of the party. It was in the fumoir Easter greeted them. She jestingly called her bedroom her "aimoir." Sprawling on luxurious divans were three or four girls, Allie Wentworth among the rest. A monstrously fat woman with a face that recalled the evil eyes and parrot-beak of an octopus, sat enthroned, and in her puffy lips a long black cigar. Introductions. "We call her Anactoria," cried Allie, pointing at the large lady. "Isn't she a queen?" "Allie," said the other in a thick voice, "Allie, you ought to be spanked." "Spanking is too good for her," interrupted Easter. "Spanking is too expensive nowadays," pertly added the girl, who wore her hair like a pianist. "Spanking," remarked the fat creature, "is for virtuosi only." A roar followed this delightful allusion. "Anactoria has cell-hunger today," smirked Allie. "Out you go if you say another word. Remember company," Easter threatened. "Oh, as for that, a young man can't scare me even if he does button his collar behind." Allie distinctly pouted. "Don't mind her, Mel," interposed Mona. "There you go with you and Mel! Please do please tell me what Mel stands for Mr. Milton--or should I say, Father Milton?" Easter sat near Milt and poured into his eyes all the magnetism of her own. "Not Father Milton, Miss Easter," he remonstrated, "not yet. I shan't be ordained for several years. Mel is only a short version of my long and not pretty-sounding baptismal name. My mother must have been in a religious mood when she gave it to me. I am not worthy to bear it." Easter pleaded. He did not weaken, and she was secretly infuriated. She became a human dynamo. "I'll sing some Schubert and Schumann for you," she whispered to him, "better still, come to see me tomorrow and I'll sing Wagner for you--alone. I want to have a confidential talk about Ulick. He looks awful. He should consult a specialist." Her smile was grim. She was aware of Milt's plan to marry off Mona; the girl had informed her. Milt grew uneasy. He knew he was blushing. His throat was dry, his lips drier. The company rallied him. Ulick declared that he was flirting, but Allie raged. Her jealousy was so childish that Anactoria reproved her. "You can't blame Istar if the men adore her. I shouldn't trust what's-his-name with the collar buttoned behind over there a moment." With this decision she emitted a cloud of smoke and closed her little porcine eyes.