She's the birdie." "Intellectually ?" "Oh, she's an intellectual four-flusher, bless her heart! But she was the only woman there who didn't try to mentally frisk me.

We lunch together soon, Henry." "Where's Count hubby ?" "Aloft.

She's a bird," he repeated, fondly reminiscent over his high-ball--"and I myself am the real ornithological thing--the species that Brooklyn itself would label 'boid' ...

She has such pretty, confiding ways, Harry." "You'd both better join the Audubon Society for Mutual Protection," observed Annan dryly.
"I'll stand for anything she stands for except that social Tenderloin; I'll join anything she joins except the 'classes now forming' in that intellectual dance hall.

By the way, who do you suppose was there ?" "The police ?" "Naw--the saloon wasn't raided, though 'Professor' Carrillo's poem was _assez raide_.