"Well, if I have been dead, I am now resurrected! Let's toast old times, since you are alone.

_Garcon! Garcon!_" Out of the crowd a waiter answered his call.

Wine was brought, three glasses were brought and filled, while Max watched the performance--watched the ease and naturalness of it with absorbed wonder.
"Lize," said Blake, as the waiter disappeared, "my friend who dared to interfere with that marvellous hat is called Max.

Won't you smile upon him ?" Max blushed again, he could not have told why, and the lady smiled--a vague, detached smile.
"A pretty boy!" she said.

"He ought to have been a woman." Then, sensible of having discharged her duty, she turned again to Blake.
"And the world, _mon cher_?
It has been kind to you ?" Blake laughed and drank some of his wine.