"I've heard there was some prospect. She's a fine looker."
"Rubber-neck!"
"Say, Rosie, I'm going to ask a girl to go to the theatre with me," said Eddie complacently.
"Indeed! Well, ask her. I don't care."
"To-morrow night. Will you go?"
"Who? Me?"
"Sure. I—I wouldn't take anybody else, you know."
"What theatre?" she asked with her rarest smile.
At that instant Rigby came in. Without a word Eddie popped up, a bit red in the face, and followed the lawyer into the private room, closing the door behind him. Rosie's ears went very pink and she pounded the keys so viciously that the machine trembled on the verge of collapse.
"Gee, Mr. Rigby, that old Droom's a holy terror. He kept me there till after one o'clock. But I'm going back again soon some night. He's got an awful joint. But that isn't what I wanted to see you about. I ran across May Rosabel, that chorus girl I was telling you about. Saw her downtown in a restaurant at one this morning. She wanted to buy the drinks and said she had more money than a rabbit. There was a gang with her. I got her to one side and she said an uncle had just died and left her a fortune. She wouldn't say how much, but it must have been quite a bunch. I know all of her uncles. She's got three. They work out at Pullman, Mr. Rigby, and they couldn't leave thirty cents between them if they all died at once."