We both laughed. I guess we were thinking of the same thing. Anyway, he answered me. “Well, of course, I wouldn’t recommend the use of the sense of taste or smell, although doubtless either would prove effective means of discovery. You could not depend upon the sound of the voice. No doubt the sense of touch could be relied upon as the surest method, but then it would be rather a delicate problem to bring about a situation in which you could try out the sense of touch. I mean, if a woman were in disguise she certainly would be careful not to let anyone feel around looking for evidence that would promptly give her away.... I guess the best way—well, you can usually tell a woman by looking at her. I guess the sense of sight is the one we’d have to use.” “But you couldn’t be sure, just from looking at a woman, could you?” “Well—it’s a case of the little things counting,” he replied, with a smile. “Sooner or later she would give herself away. We’d just keep our eyes open and see what we would see.” We didn’t have a chance to continue the discussion nearer the real subject that was on my mind, for at this point Ben appeared and we set off to visit a woman named Fernande, whom the Captain described as second only to Ada Gedouin when it came to “that sensuous loveliness.” He told Ben to be on his good conduct to-night, “because we can’t tell who is liable to be there. She has some very hoity-toity friends.” Ben behaved for a while—until the drinks began to function in his anatomy and his brain. I tried all evening to get a few minutes alone with the Captain, but between his fervent attentions to the rather beautiful Fernande and Ben’s disorderly conduct about the place, I didn’t have a chance until we were on our way home, by which time he was the container of such a variety of wines and beverages that he dozed off before I could even begin to talk to him. Ben finally decided that some sparkling water would revive all of us, so he stopped the cab and went in search of a bottle.... I found the Captain’s head slipping onto my shoulder, and I momentarily forgot what an unpleasant evening I had had. His hair brushed against my cheek and it seemed so natural, such a little thing, that I just couldn’t resist the impulse to brush my lips ever so lightly across his mouth. “Ah, Fernande!” sighed the Captain, and I could have choked him. “LEONY!” I almost fainted dead away from the shock, for there was Ben, back again and with a bottle. He had certainly seen me kiss the Captain. He climbed into the cab and growled thickly, “Good thing we’re goin’ home. You’re drunker’n a cow’s tail!” The Captain opened his eyes stupidly and said, “I thought that Fernande was making love to me.” “Fernande, hell, Cap!” exclaimed Ben. “That was Leony tryin’ to wake ya up.... He’s drunk, an’ ye’re drunk ... an’ I guess I’m the only sober man in the party.”