"Till they throw yuh out, you boob," Bland amended his parting sentence.

"Stoppin' at the Alexandria--hnm!" Johnny, secure in his fresh cleanness and his ignorance of the traditions of the place, strode through the onyx-pillared lobby peopled with well-fed, modish human beings who conversed in modulated voices or bustled in and out, engrossed with affairs which might or might not be of national importance.

At the desk a perfectly groomed, worldly wise aristocrat proffered a pen well inked and gave Johnny what Bland would have termed the double O.
Before he had finished pressing blotter upon "John Ivan Jewel, Tucson, Arizona", his brain had registered certain details and his smile had attained a certain quality of deference.
"We are glad to have you with us, Mr.Jewel.

Ah--a room and bath, say on the sixth floor?
Ah--did you have a good flight, Mr.Jewel ?" Oh, the adaptability of American youth! "Made it in seven hours continuous flight," Johnny informed him carelessly.

"Nothing to it.
Yes, the sixth floor will be all right.