eph, the guy with the fancy coat,
but I think he wears'em because he fancies 'em. He's been coming here
ever' afternoon for twelve years, has a cup of coffee, game of chess,
and a pow-wow with a bunch of cronies. If Baumbach's ever decide
to paint the front of their shop or put in cut glass fixtures and
handpainted china, Hugo Luders would serve an injunction on 'em. Next!"

"Who's the woman with the leathery complexion and the belt to match, and
the untidy hair and the big feet? I like her face. And why does she sit
at a table with all those strange-looking men? And who are all the men?
And who is the fur-lined grand opera tenor just coming in--Oh!"

Blackie glanced over his shoulder just as the tall man in the doorway
turned his face toward us. "That? Why, girl, that's Von Gerhard, the man
who gives me one more year t' live. Look at everybody kowtowing to him.
He don't favor Baumbach's often. Too busy patching up the nervous wrecks
that are washed up on his shores."

The tall figure in the doorway was glancing from table to table, nodding
here and there to an acquaintance. His eyes traveled the length of the
room. Now they were nearing us. I felt a sudden, inexplicable tightening
at heart and throat, as though fingers were clutching there. Then
his eyes met mine, and I felt the blood rushing to my face as he came
swiftly over to our table and took my hand in his.

"So you have discovered Baumbach's," he said. "May I have my coffee and
cigar here with you?"

"Blackie here is responsible for my being initiated into the sticky
mysteries of Baumbach's. I never should have discovered it if he had not
offered to act as personal conductor. You know one another, I believe?"

The two men shook hands across the table. There was something forced
and graceless about the act. Blackie eyed Von Gerhard through a misty
curtain of cigarette smoke. Von Gerhard gazed at Blackie through
narrowed lids as he lighted his cigar. "I'm th' gink you killed off two
or three years back," Blackie explained.

"I remember you perfectly," Von Gerhard returned, courteously. "I
rejoice to see that I was mistaken."

"Well," drawled Blackie, a wicked gleam in his black eyes, "I'm
some rejoiced m'self, old top. Angel wings and a white kimono, worn
bare-footy, would go some rotten with my Spanish style of beauty, what?
Didn't know that you and m'dame friend here was acquainted. Known each
other long?"

I felt myself flushing again.

"I knew Dr.