Bring me
the----"
Then he recollected, paused, and reluctantly pulled out "Env. No. 8" and
broke the seal. "Just a minute," he murmured to the waiter. Then his
face turned scarlet, and he stammered under his breath, "Why--why--this
can't be----"
"Env. No. 8" ought to have been bordered with black, judging by the
dismay it caused the famished lad. It read remorselessly:
Leave Cafe immediately, without stopping for luncheon,
remembering to fee waiter for place retained. Proceed to
box office, Metropolitan Theatre, buy a parquet ticket for
matinee--"The Pied Piper." At end of first act read Env.
No. 9. C. W. Jr.
The Woodbridge blood was up now, and it was with an expression
resembling that of his Grandfather Cornelius under strong indignation
that Cyrus stalked out of that charming place to proceed grimly toward
the Metropolitan Theatre.
"Who wants to see a matinee on an empty stomach?" he groaned. "I suppose
I'll be ordered out, anyway, the minute I sit down and stretch my legs.
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