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 "Is it? Close season on Camembert, eh? Well, make it Roquefort, then."

"And what will you drink, sir?"

"A quart of Pol Roger. I'll leave the vintage to you."

"Thank you, sir. Ninety-eight, sir."

When the waiter had taken himself away, Dave, who had been surveying the scene with much interest, said:

"Wade, reckon that gal's here?"

"Not likely," answered Wade, suppressing a smile. "This is hardly the place to find her, Dave."

"Ain't it? Why not?" Wade explained and Dave's interest in the people about him perceptibly increased. Wade didn't eat much of that supper, but his companion did full justice to it. Between courses his attention reverted to a young woman at a neighboring table, and finally his curiosity found voice.

"I reckon the women here ain't all like that, Wade?"

"Like what?" asked Wade absently.