pass reality. The movements of the one waiter fascinated her. He was a young man, slim and powerfully built, with a face almost handsome, which had the same absolute hardness and immobility that marked the prize-fighter's. He moved quickly amongst the crowd, with a business-like, lordly air, his eyes everywhere at once. He swept off half-filled beer-glasses, and brought full ones without being asked, balancing a tray in each hand. And twice in fifteen minutes he put down his trays, took an obstreperous sailor by the collar and jerked him through the door of the place into the street without moving a muscle of his face, or losing for an instant his business-like calm.
"That's the bouncer," explained Erhart to Alice. She wanted to know all about the bouncer, whom Basil was sketching on the back of a letter; but she was even more interested in the two young girls, and at her request Erhart asked them to come up to the table, and gave them some beer. They were not at all shy. The prettiest at once began to talk to Teresa with easy frankness; told her that she and her friend lived in a room together, and had done so for two years; that she was a morphine-fiend; and she showed, with a certain pride, her arm, covered with punctures. Her face was round and delicately coloured, without a touch of powder or paint. She had large, blue eyes, and curl-
