Page:Arthur Stringer - The Door of Dread.djvu/283



OU can smoke here," announced Wilsnach, as he refilled his demi-tasse from the battered pewter coffee-pot with the ebony handle.

A faint tinge of pink crept up into Sadie Wimpel's powdered cheek. "I don't wantta smoke!"

Sadie spoke with apparent indifference, yet across the narrow white estuary of the restaurant-table she shot a glance of quick interrogation. Wilsnach, she felt, was trying her out. He was still a little uncertain about her being able to act like a lady.

"Why not?" he asked, recalling her earlier declaration that she had seen enough European duchesses engaged in that innocent pastime to swamp a ship. There were times, he had to acknowledge, when Sadie was still a bit of a mystery to him.

"I told yuh I was goin' to cut out the smokin' and the slang! And I'm goin' to cut them out for good!" For the second time the color showed a 269