It sounded fierce; but Mary apparently knew her Abey; also, she saw that Maw was starting to cry.  “There’s no use trying to bluff me, Abey.  You know as well as I do there are hungry people in this city, and no fault of theirs.  You know, too, you eat twice what you ought to, because I’ve heard the doctor tell you.  I’m not blaming you a bit more than I do myself—­me, with two automobiles, and a whole show-window on my back.”  And suddenly she turned to Carpenter.  “What can we do?”

He answered:  “Here, men gorge themselves; in Russia they are eating their dead.”

T-S dropped his knife and fork, and Maw gave a gulp.  “Oh, my Gawd!”

“There are ten million people doomed to starve.  Their children eat grass, and their bellies swell up and their legs dwindle to broom-sticks; they stagger and fall into the ditches, and other children tear their flesh and devour it.”

“O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh!” wailed Maw; and the diners at Prince’s began to stare.

“Now looka here!” cried T-S, wildly.  “I say dis ain’t no decent way to behave at a party.  I say it ain’t on de level to be a feller’s guest, and den jump on him and spoil his dinner.  See here, Mr. Carpenter, I tell you vot I do.  You be good and eat your grub, so it don’t git vasted, and I promise you, tomorrow I go and hunt up strike headquarters, and give dem a check fer a tousand dollars, and if de damn graftin’ leaders don’t hog it, dey all git someting to eat.  And vot’s more, I send a check fer five tousand to de Russian relief.  Now ain’t dat square?  Vot you say?”

“What I say is, Mr. T-S, I cannot be the keeper of another man’s conscience.  But I’ll try to eat, so as not to be rude.”

And T-S grunted, and went back to his feeding; and the stranger made a pretense of eating, and we did the same.

XVII

It happens that I was brought up in a highly conscientious family.  To my dear mother, and to her worthy sisters, there is nothing in the world more painful than what they call a “scene”—­unless possibly it is what they call a “situation.”  And here we had certainly had a “scene,” and still had a “situation.”  So I sat, racking my brains to think of something safe to talk about.  I recalled that T-S had had pretty good success with his “Tale of Two Cities” as a topic of Conversation, so I began: 

“Mr. Carpenter, the spectacle you are going to see this evening is rather remarkable from the artistic point of view.  One of the greatest scenic artists of Paris has designed the set, and the best judges consider it a real achievement, a landmark in moving picture work.”

“Tell me about it,” said Carpenter; and I was grateful for his tone of interest.

“Well, I don’t know how much you know about picture making—­”

“You had better explain everything.”

“Well, Mr. T-S has built a large set, representing a street scene in Paris over a century ago.  He has hired a thousand men—­”