I caught up with them in the next room, waiting; for Greene, our club secretary, was a cautious man and never paid entertainers in advance. When Dori's father realized I was not the man bringing his money to him, he sat down disconsolately in a straight-backed chair and let me talk to Dori without interruption. Probably he had been through this before. I introduced myself to Dori and, since her impatient expression didn't encourage idle chatter, started right in with: "You and your father are picking up pennies, when you could be rich. Now--" "If you were going to offer to be our manager, you're wasting your breath. My father has had such offers before, and we want no manager. He's satisfied with things as they are." That's what I had planned, although being their "manager" would have been only a blind for what I had in mind. I changed my tack. "As a matter of fact, I was interested in you, Miss Dori. I was attracted to you the moment I saw you. I wonder if you'd go out to dinner with me tonight?" It was a risky invitation, for I'd have to borrow money for such a date, and prospective creditors were wary of me by now. Her face lit up a little at the words--I'm sure she had received such a compliment rarely, if ever. But she said: "My father doesn't allow me to go out with men." I thought a minute. "Surely, he couldn't have any objection to my visiting _him_ tonight, could he? And if you're there, well...." "We're staying at the Ringo Hotel," she said after a moment's hesitation, and favored me with a shy smile. Well, I was able to borrow some money, and with it I bought a few flowers for Dori and a quantity of the rawest, cheapest whiskey I could find. I had recognized the symptoms of the sot in the old man's pouchy face and shaking hands. The Ringo Hotel was a run-down place in the eastern sector of town. The old man was not especially glad to see me when I appeared early that evening, but his attitude changed quickly when I unwrapped the liquor. Within an hour he was dead drunk and snoring on the bed. Dori drank nothing, and I drank just enough to loosen my tongue and my inhibitions. It was not the sort of romantic atmosphere I would have preferred, with the two of us facing each other in hard, straight-backed chairs, the bare light bulb glaring down on us and the old souse snorting away in his drunken dreams; but I was determined not to let this opportunity escape me. I talked my way carefully, without making any precipitous advances or suggestions, and I soon learned one inescapable fact. Dori had no love left for her father and would leave him in a moment; but her long-dead mother had instilled in her a rigid morality that left no door open for an informal association, no matter how attractive I made it. There was one course open to me.