Any place is a good place to eat when one is young and hungry, and not burdened with money. We wasted no time looking, but went into the first restaurant we came to. Neither did we haggle over the menu card. Julia found chicken, and there we stopped. She never seemed to get enough of it. The dinner was a long time coming; she popped her head out of the box every minute looking for the busy waiter.

“I wonder what’s happened to him. He has either dropped dead or the police came and arrested him,” she was saying when he appeared. We fell on the dinner and devoured it like a couple of hired men. She had the waiter bring a cigar. I managed it fairly well.

Her chatter ceased. She sat quietly, elbows on the table, her face covered with her hands, strong-looking, large, capable hands, but white and shapely. I smoked and wondered about her. What a partner she would make for me if she were not a girl! She pushed her chair back, rested her hands in her lap, and looked up at her bedraggled straw hat on a hook. I thought she was ready to go, and got up to get it.