He had been hearing without distinguishing what he heard.

And curiously he listened, still with that strange knock of memory at his heart.

Everybody was talking, some low, some high, all in the spirit of the hour.

And in one moment he had heard that which killed the false enchantment.
"Not a chance!..." "Hot dog--she's some Jane!" "Now to the clinch--" "What'll we do till the next spiel--" "Have a shot ?----" "Boys, it's only the shank of the evening.

Leave something peppy for the finish." "Mame, you look like a million dollars in that rag." "She shakes a mean shimmy, believe me...." "That egg! Not on your life!" "Cut the next with Ned.