He had placed himself deliberately
beside her, and he at once began advances. She showed at a
glance that she was a silly, vain girl. Her face was fat and
dull; she had thin, stringy hair. She was flabby and, in the
lazy life to which the Gansers' wealth and the silly customs of
prosperous people condemned her, was already beginning to expand
in the places where she could least afford it.
He made amorous eyes at her. He laughed enthusiastically at her
foolish speeches. He addressed his pompous platitudes
exclusively to her. Within an hour he pressed her hand under the
table and sighed dramatically. When she looked at him he started
and rolled his great eyes dreamily away. Never before had she
received attentions that were not of the frankest and crudest
practical nature. She was all in a flutter at having thus
unexpectedly come upon appreciation of the beauties and merits
her mirror told her she possessed. When Mrs. Schoenberg, her
aunt, rose to go, she gave Feuerstein a chance to say in a low
aside: ``My queen! To-morrow at eleven--at Bloomingdale's.''
Her blush and smile told him she would be there.
All left except Feuerstein and a youth he had been watching out
of the corner of his eyes--young Dippel, son of the rich
drug-store man. Feuerstein saw that Dippel was on the verge of
collapse from too much drink. As he still had his eighty-five
cents, he pressed Dippel to drink and, by paying, induced him to
add four glasses of beer to his already top-heavy burden.
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