Upon
entering, one may pass through a saloon where white-aproned
waiters load trays and wrangle over checks, then into a ball-room
filled with the flotsam and jetsam of midnight Manhattan. Above
and around this room runs a white-and-gold balcony partitioned
into boxes; beneath it are many tables separated from the waxed
floor by a railing. Inside the enclosure men in street-clothes and
smartly gowned girls with enormous hats revolve nightly to the
strains of an orchestra which nearly succeeds in drowning their
voices. From the tables come laughter and snatches of song;
waiters dash hither and yon. It is all very animated and gay on
the surface, and none but the closely observant would note the
weariness beneath the women's smiles, the laughter notes that
occasionally jar, or perceive that the tailored gowns are
imitations, the ermines mainly rabbit-skins.
But the eyes of youth are not analytical, and seen through a rosy
haze the sight was inspiriting. The college men selected a table,
and, shouldering the occupants aside without ceremony, seated
themselves and pounded for a waiter.
Padden, the proprietor, came toward them, and, after greeting
Anthony and Higgins by a shake of his left hand, ducked his round
gray head in acknowledgment of an introduction to the others.
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