I gave her a little hug and answered "I'm just a cab driver, but even I can see that you and Edith, you're a couple of real ladies. I'm just grateful that two classy women like you would be willing to share yourselves with me."

She turned her head to look at me before she said "Jim, having class, or being a lady or a gentleman, isn't a matter of how much money you have or what your job is or your social status. Yes, those things help make it easier to show what kind of person you are – but they aren't the reason. It's a question of respecting yourself, and respecting other people, and how you treat them. I'm a nurse, and I can't tell you how many doctors and surgeons I've seen that act like they're Doctor So-and-so, M.D., and G.O.D. Maybe you're 'just' a cab driver, but you're more of a gentleman than most of the other men that I know are. And maybe you wear slacks and a sports shirt instead of an Armani suit, but you've got more class than they do, too. You don't have an over-inflated opinion of yourself – but don't sell yourself short, either. By everything I hear from Edith, you've got a legitimate job, and you invariably do it well and honestly. That's a lot more than MOST people can say for themselves."

Having said her piece, she turned her head back and just let me hold her as the two of us sat there in silence until Edith got back.

She came in carrying a tray that looked to have enough food and drinks on it to last the three of us well into the next day; when she saw how Denise and I were positioned, she just smiled that she was glad to see us that way before setting the tray on the night table. Denise and I started to move, and Edith just told us "Oh, go on and stay there. Both of you look like you're about as contented as you could be. I can hand you anything you need or want."

I expressed my thanks just ahead of Denise; Edith just made a gesture of dismissal and handed each of us a bottle of club soda, then a small sandwich.