She had come from the casting office and paused when she saw him.
"Hello, I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure in them clothes.

How they coming ?" He stared blankly, startled at the sudden transposition he had been compelled to make, for the gleaming knife of Gashwiler, standing up to carve, had just then hovered above the well-browned roast of beef.

Then he placed the speaker by reason of her eyes.

It was the Spanish girl, his companion of the gilded cabaret, later encountered in the palatial gambling hell that ate like a cancer at the heart of New York--probably at the corner of Broadway and Fifth Avenue.
He arose and shook hands cordially.

He had supposed, when he thought of the girl at all, that she would always be rather Spanish, an exotic creature rather garishly dressed, nervously eager, craving excitement such as may be had in cabarets on Broadway, with a marked inclination for the lighter life of pleasure.