He hesitated a moment, and then pushed open the glass door and stepped into the remembered sight and sound and smell of the place. It gave him an odd feeling, like a dream dreamed over. A few couples were dancing to the music of a small stringed orchestra strumming a south sea melody. About half the tables were occupied with customers. Cigarette girls swished about in their grass skirts, and the waiters still wore white mess jackets. The tropical murals on the walls were unchanged. Ramsey left his hat with a red-lipped blonde, accepted a check, entered the bar and ordered a brandy and soda. The bartender was thin and gray-haired. Ramsey didn’t remember him. “What time is the next show?” Ramsey asked.
“Eight o’clock, sir.”
Her schedule had been stepped up, he thought. He sipped at his dri
