She found that ice-water was a good antidote for champagne.
When Ferriday sharply ordered the waiter to look to her glass she
shook her head. When he finished the bottle and the waiter put it
mouth down in the ice as an eloquent reminder Ferriday accepted
the challenge and ordered another bottle. He was just thickened
of tongue enough to say "boddle."
Kedzie spoke, quickly: "Please, no. I must go home. It's later than
I thought, and--"
"And Mrs. Gilfoyle will wonder," Ferriday laughed. "That's right,
my dear. You've got to keep good hours if you are going to succeethe
on the screen. Early to bed, for you must early-to-rise. _Garcon,
garcon, l'addition, s'il vous_ please."
While he was paying the bill Kedzie was thinking fleetly of her next
problem. He would want to take her home in his car, and it would be
just her luck to find her husband on the door-step. In any case, she
was afraid that Ferriday would be sentimental and she did not want
Ferriday to be sentimental just yet. And she would not tolerate
a sentiment inspired or influenced by wine. Love from a bottle is
the poorest of compliments.
Already she was a little disappointed in Ferriday. He was a great
man, but he had his fault, and she had found him out. If he were
going to be of use to her she must snub that vinous phase at once.
The cool air outside seemed to gratify Ferriday and he took off his
hat while the carriage-starter whistled up his car. Now Kedzie said:
"Please, Mr.
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