Hoogley's was animated. Electric lights shone as, indeed, they were
expected to do. And the napery, the glassware and the flowers also
meritoriously performed the spectacular duties required of them. The
guests were numerous, well-dressed and gay.
A waiter--not necessarily obsequious--conducted "Big Jim" Dougherty
and his wife to a table.
"Play that menu straight across for what you like, Dele," said "Big
Jim." "It's you for a trough of the gilded oats to-night. It strikes
me that maybe we've been sticking too fast to home fodder."
"Big Jim's" wife gave her order. He looked at her with respect. She
had mentioned truffles; and he had not known that she knew what
truffles were. From the wine list she designated an appropriate and
desirable brand. He looked at her with some admiration.
She was beaming with the innocent excitement that woman derives from
the exercise of her gregariousness. She was talking to him about a
hundred things with animation and delight. And as the meal progressed
her cheeks, colorless from a life indoors, took on a delicate flush.
"Big Jim" looked around the room and saw that none of the women
there had her charm. And then he thought of the three years she had
suffered immurement, uncomplaining, and a flush of shame warmed him,
for he carried fair play as an item in his creed.
But when the Honorable Patrick Corrigan, leader in Dougherty's
district and a friend of his, saw them and came over to the table,
matters got to the three-quarter stretch.
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