"It's funny Hazel never mentioned you to me," I says, when I stopped laughing.
"It'd be much more comical if she did!" says Fighting Paddy. "I guess she wouldn't give me a tumble these days. She's out in front and I'm nowheres—yet. But believe me, I'm proud of that girl, no foolin'. I've watched her leap from the magazine covers to the footlights as tickled as if she was my own sister! I'd sure like to see her before you take that boat ride. Maybe we could frame for the three of us to go places together in London, all bein' Americans alone in that slab. I'll git you a ringside box for my quarrel with Grenadier Tompkins and after I flatten him I'll throw a party which will put a permanent wave in your hair. What d'ye say?"
"Here's your Mister Vasiloff on the wire," I says. "Step into booth number three, please."
"Tell him to cut himself a piece of cake," says Fighting Paddy. "I can talk to that bozo any time! He's the guy manages my apartment houses. D'ye think Hazel will see me?"
"You own apartment houses?" I ask him.
"Absolutely!" says Fighting Paddy carelessly. "Two on West End Avenoo and one on Lenox."
"I'm positive Hazel will see you!" I says.
A couple of nights later I staged a dinner party at one of the popular and costly cabarets so's Fighting
