"Sit down, Mr.Enright, and let's talk.

How's the door, Ned ?" He opened it and glanced out into the hall, throwing the bolt as he came back.
"All right, Celeste, but I wouldn't talk quite so loud; the partitions are not very tight." "No objections to a cigarette, I suppose," and she produced a case.
"Thanks; now I feel better--certainly, light up.

Well, Ned, the first thing I want to know is, who is this other New York skirt, and how did she happen to blow in here just at this time ?" Beaton completed the lighting of his cigar, flinging the match carelessly out of the window.
"Oh, she's all right," he said easily.

"Just an innocent kid writer for _Scribbler's_ who's trying to make good writing about the beautiful scenery around here.

I was a bit suspicious of her at first myself, but picked her up this morning an' we had quite a talk.