"
They teetered, the two of them like animated dolls, arm in arm, and so
at ease.
"Here, you little Black Curls, sit next to me, and you, Blondey, over
there by my brother-in-law."
"What'll you have, girls?"
"Anchovies and fine-chopped onions for mine. Tell 'em in the kitchen,
waiter, I said _fine_, and if the gentlemen are going to order wine,
bring me a plate of oyster crackers first to take off the edge of my
emptiness."
"Sure, another bottle of wine, waiter."
"Hermie, we--"
"And you, little Jingle Bells, same as Blondey's order?"
"Yeh."
"Say, you know what?"
"No. What?"
"I fell for those bouncing black curls of yours before I was in the
place five minutes."
At that there was an incredible flow of baby talk.
"Gemmemen ike ikkie gurl wiz naughty-naughty black curl-curlies?"
"You bet your life I do," said Mr. Loeb, unashamed of comprehension.
Mr. Kahn flashed another look at his watch.
"Say, don't you know, you girls oughtn't to keep us boys up so late.
Ain't there no wear out to you?"
The yellow curls to his right bounced sharply.
"He asks if there's a wear out to us, Cleone? I wish it to you this
minute, Baldy, that you had the muscles in the back of my legs.
Pages:
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342