THE AMERICAN
"The Occidental. You'll see all the Americans there; all the best of them at least. Of course you play poker?"
"Oh, I say," cried Newman, with energy, "you're not going to lock me up in a club and stick me down at a card-table! I have n't come all this way for that."
"What the deuce then have you come for? You were glad enough to play poker in Saint Louis, I recollect, when you cleaned me out."
"I've come to see Europe, to get the best out of it I can. I want to see all the great things and do what the best people do."
"The 'best' people? Much obliged. You set me down then as one of the worst?"
Newman was sitting sidewise in his chair, his elbow on the back and his head leaning on his hand. Without moving he played a while at his companion his dry, guarded, half-inscrutable and yet altogether good-natured smile. "Introduce me to your wife!"
Tristram bounced about on his seat. "Upon my word I 'll do nothing of the sort. She does n't want any help to turn up her nose at me, nor do you either."
"I don't turn up my nose at you, my dear fellow; nor at any one nor anything. I'm not proud, I assure you I'm not proud. That's why I'm willing to take example by the best."
"Well, if I'm not the rose, as they say here, I've lived near it. I can show you some rare minds too. Do you know General Packard? Do you know C. P. Hatch? Do you know Miss Kitty Upjohn?"
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