"They got a nerve.

I know who they are.

No respectable girl 'd have a thing to do with them.
Listen to that!" "Oh, you Bill, you," one of them, a buxom young brunette, was calling.
"Hope you ain't forgotten me, Bill." "Oh, you chicken," he called back gallantly.
Saxon flattered herself that he showed vexation, and she conceived an immense dislike for the brunette.
"Goin' to dance ?" the latter called.
"Mebbe," he answered, and turned abruptly to Saxon.

"Say, we old Americans oughta stick together, don't you think?
They ain't many of us left.

The country's fillin' up with all kinds of foreigners." He talked on steadily, in a low, confidential voice, head close to hers, as advertisement to the other girl that he was occupied.
From the next table on the opposite side, a young man had singled out Saxon.