oat hanging
loosely from one shoulder, a crush-opera-hat dangling in one hand, his
eyes a little bloodshot, his under lip protruding slightly and
defiantly, and his whole visage proclaiming that devil-may-care,
superior, and malicious aspect which the drunken rake does not so much
assume as achieve. He looked sullenly, uncertainly about; then,
perceiving Cowperwood and his party, made his way thither in the
half-determined, half-inconsequential fashion of one not quite sound
after his cups. When he was directly opposite Cowperwood's table--the
cynosure of a number of eyes--he suddenly paused as if in recognition,
and, coming over, laid a genial and yet condescending hand on Mrs.
Carter's bare shoulder.

"Why, hello, Hattie!" he called, leeringly and jeeringly. "What are
you doing down here in New York? You haven't given up your business in
Louisville, have you, eh, old sport? Say, lemme tell you something. I
haven't had a single decent girl since you left--not one. If you open
a house down here, let me know, will you?"

He bent over her smirkingly and patronizingly the while he made as if
to rummage in his white waistcoat pocket for a card. At the same
moment Cowperwood and Braxmar, realizing quite clearly the import of
his words, were on their feet. While Mrs. Carter was pulling and
struggling back from the stranger, Braxmar's hand (he being the
nearest) was on him, and the head waiter and two assistants had
appeared.

"What is the trouble here? What has he done?" they demanded.

Meanwhile the intruder, leering contentiously at them all, was
exclaiming in very audible tones: "Take your hands off. Who are you?
What the devil have you got to do with this? Don't you think I know
what I'm about? She knows me--don't you, Hattie? That's Hattie Starr,
of Louisville--ask her! She kept one of the swellest ever run in
Louisville. What do you people want to be so upset about? I know what
I'm doing. She knows me."

He not only protested, but contested, and with some vehemence.
Cowperwood, Braxmar, and the waiters forming a cordon, he was shoved
and hustled out into the lobby and the outer entranceway, and an
officer was called.

"This man should be arrested," Cowperwood protested, vigorously, when
the latter appeared. "He has grossly insulted lady guests of mine. He
is drunk and disorderly, and I wish to make that charge. Here is my
card. Will you let me know where to come?" He handed it over, while
Braxmar,