"
But his suppressed eloquence was lost upon his hearer, for Donald had
become absorbed in a theatrical poster, which represented a
preternaturally slim young lady, poised on a champagne bottle, coyly
surveying an admiring world through the extended fingers of a small
black gloved hand. It was "La Florine," whose charms he had heard
recounted times without number by Mr. Cropsie Decker.
This evening, the poster announced, "La Florine" would for the first
time in any American city, perform her incomparable dance, "The
Serpent of the Nile."
Don had consulted his watch, and made a lightning calculation as to
the time in which he could get a bite of supper and reach the Gayety,
before he remembered that he was a reformed character. Then he sternly
withdrew his gaze from the lady who peeped through her fingers in the
dusk, and brought it back to the red-headed person, who had continued
his conversation with unbroken volubility.
"... and she says to me," he was concluding "'Mr. Flathers,' she says,
'it's a privelege to help such as you. A man what's been in the gutter
times without number, and bore the awful horrors of delirium tremins
four times and still can feel the stirrings of Christianity in his
bosom.
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