Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/75

Rh menu aside, as wholly beneath his notice, and frowningly ordered cocktails—this was before prohibition—oysters, and soup. Then he leaned across the table and suddenly became all soft suavity. The contrast was effective.

"How've you been?" he asked.

"Oh, pretty well," Stella purred. Any one could make Stella purr who stroked her like that.

"How are things going?" he inquired in his terribly intimate manner.

"Oh, pretty well, I guess," she purred again, and glanced up, her big Delft-blue eyes gazing straight into Alfred Munn's little pig-like spots of brightness, rimmed round with the puffy lids.

"I don't care," Stella thought to herself in defense of the things she was allowing her bold eyes to imply to Alfred Munn. "It's only for to-day, and I'm perfectly aware of what he is—dissipated, rotten old thing, probably. Doesn't hurt me any if he is. I'm beyond hurting now. He's better than nobody."

Stella had almost forgotten what a cocktail tasted like. How it did bring back the good old happy days, when everybody admired and flattered, just as Alfred Munn was doing now. For he was doing just that to Stella—over-doing it a little. Well, she could stand a little over-doing in that line. It had been so long since any man had found her attractive! Or, at least, since any man had told her so. She had begun to fear that age had got a grip on her at last which she couldn't loosen, however much she strained. Men hated old women. Alfred Munn restored her self-confidence wonderfully. He