We'll tell him
we haven't got any place to drink it--see. Then we can sneak in there
whenever there ain't nobody in that there room and tuck a bottle under
our coats. We'll have enough to last us a coupla days--see?"
"Sure," agreed Rose enthusiastically. "Oh, boy! And if we want to we
can sell it to sojers any time we want to."
They were silent for a moment thinking rosily of this idea. Then Key
reached up and unhooked the collar of his O. D. coat.
"It's hot in here, ain't it?"
Rose agreed earnestly.
"Hot as hell."
IV
She was still quite angry when she came out of the dressing-room and
crossed the intervening parlor of politeness that opened onto the
hall--angry not so much at the actual happening which was, after all,
the merest commonplace of her social existence, but because it had
occurred on this particular night. She had no quarrel with herself.
She had acted with that correct mixture of dignity and reticent pity
which she always employed. She had succinctly and deftly snubbed him.
It had happened when their taxi was leaving the Biltmore--hadn't gone
half a block. He had lifted his right arm awkwardly--she was on his
right side--and attempted to settle it snugly around the crimson
fur-trimmed opera cloak she wore. This in itself had been a mistake.
It was inevitably more graceful for a young man attempting to embrace
a young lady of whose acquiescence he was not certain, to first put
his far arm around her.
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