"
* * * * *
Peewee wagged a wise old head and her vermilion mouth registered scorn at
105 degrees Fahrenheit. A very cold light, however, kindled in her
beautiful eyes.
"Yes, yes, I've taken them up," she went on. "I've let them stake me to
the swell time. Say, ten dollars to one that these manicured millionaires
don't mean any more than the Governor's pardon does to Carl Wanderer. Not
a bit. I don't want to get personal, but, take it from me, they're all
after one thing. And they're a pack of selfish, mushy-headed tin horns
with fishhook pockets, the kind you can't pull anything out of.
"Well, to get back. About the first minute you get the big, come-on
squeeze. Then next the big talk about being strangers in your town. Then
next they open with the big, hearty invitations. Will you be their little
guide? And ain't you the most beautiful thing they ever set eyes on! And
say, if they'd only met you before they wouldn't be living around hotels
now, lonesome bachelors without a friend. I forgot to tell you, they're
all single. No, never married. Even some of the most humpbacked married
men you ever saw, who come in here dragging leg irons and looking a
picture of the Common People, they're single, too.
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