She broke a cobblestone over his head and he was out. Oh God! pardon me. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. I can't give you my hand; but you may take it. Wait, though. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline.
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