Certainly, Mr. O'Grady.
And bring up some wine! he called over his shoulder as, with Wintergreen on his arm, he staggered out of the restaurant.
I said black cat's—
I mean bone;
I believe to my soul my man's got a black cat's bone;
Every time I leave I gotta come back home.
Presently, Paul was rejoined by the waiter.
I'm sorry, Mr. Moody, he was apologizing. I hope you'll understand. I don't want to argue with him. He's dangerously strong when he's drunk.
Does he come here often? Paul demanded, dazed.
Every day for two weeks. Never saw him in my life before that. It's easy to tell he ain't used to drink. It hits him hard, makes him very ugly, sir. Sometimes he breaks things. There was a nasty row last week, sir. He almost killed a man.
Has he . . . has he ever been here with her?
Your girl, sir?
Paul's smile was sardonic. Yes, he replied, my . . . girl.
He never saw her before, sir. I'll swear to that. He just went over to your table and sat down. I was serving the filet mignon, sir. I was standing right by the table. He looked at her hard and she
