"
"Don't take any stock in her nonsense," the Fraction King warned, "She
just does it a-purpose to get me mad."
"Now then!" she commanded, sharply. "Step up to your licker! 'Ere's
'ow!"
"What'll it be?" cried Blanche from the stove.
The elevated mugs wavered and halted.
"The Queen, Gawd bless 'er!" the Virgin toasted promptly.
"And Bill!" Del Bishop interrupted.
Again the mugs wavered.
"Bill 'oo?" the Virgin asked, suspiciously.
"McKinley."
She favored him with a smile. "Thank you, cookie, you're a trump.
Now! 'Ere's a go, gents! Take it standing. The Queen, Gawd bless
'er, and Bill McKinley!"
"Bottoms up!" thundered Jake Cornell, and the mugs smote the table with
clanging rims.
Vance Corliss discovered himself amused and interested. According to
Frona, he mused ironically,--this was learning life, was adding to his
sum of human generalizations. The phrase was hers, and he rolled it
over a couple of times. Then, again, her engagement with St. Vincent
crept into his thought, and he charmed the Virgin by asking her to
sing. But she was coy, and only after Bishop had rendered the several
score stanzas of "Flying Cloud" did she comply. Her voice, in a weakly
way, probably registered an octave and a half; below that point it
underwent strange metamorphoses, while on the upper levels it was
devious and rickety.
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