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"I presume, ladies, you have been at the play?" our gentleman inquired, having remarked the dresses we wore.

"Ha, ha!" I answered. "Right you are. Been at one play, and come to another." There was not less coarse ribaldry in my tones than in my words.

"That's first-rate.—The bill of fare, waiter!—What will you take?"

"To eat, nothing. We want to drink, to drink, to drink!"

"Very good!" he exclaimed, in a tone of pleased surprise. "Coffee and liqueur—cognac—champagne?"

"All right: anything and everything, my dear man!"

Several bottles were standing on the table. Our companion, having leisurely prepared a mayonnaise, set to munching the lobster with great relish, showing his white teeth in a grin.—Gina drank, but was mute.—I babbled incessantly, endeavouring to pass for a cocotte. We were a puzzle to the young man nevertheless, and his behaviour towards us was lacking in assurance.

"Do you know, Madame," he at last blurted out, addressing me, "it will be better fun if