"I don't blame you," said he."A woman does have a--a hades of a time!""We were going out to buy some clothes when you came," proceeded Etta."We're in an awful state.""I wondered how two girls with faces like yours," said John, "came to be dressed so--so differently.That was what first attracted us." Then, as Etta and Fatty were absorbed in each other, he went on to Susan: "And your eyes--I mustn't forget them.You certainly have got a beautiful face.And your mouth--so sweet and sad--but, what a lovely, _lovely_ smile!"At this Susan smiled still more broadly with pleasure."I'm glad you're pleased," said she.
"Why, if you were dressed up----
"You're not a working girl by birth, are you?""I wish I had been," said Susan.
"Oh, I think a girl's got as good a right as a man to have a good time," lied John.
"Don't say things you don't believe," said Susan."It isn't necessary.""I can hand that back to you.You weren't frank, yourself, when you said you wished you'd been born in the class of your friend--and of my friend Fatty, too."Susan's laugh was confession.The champagne was dancing in her blood.She said with a reckless toss of the head:
"I was born nothing.So I'm free to become anything I please anything except respectable."Here Fatty broke in."I'll tell you what let's do.Let's all go shopping.We can help you girls select your things."Susan laughed."We're going to buy about three dollars' worth.
There won't be any selecting.We'll simply take the cheapest.""Then--let's go shopping," said John, "and you two girls can help Fatty and me select clothes for you.""That's the talk!" cried Fatty.And he summoned the waiter."The bill," said he in the manner of a man who likes to enjoy the servility of servants.
"We hadn't paid for our supper," said Susan."How much was it, Etta?""A dollar twenty-five."
"We're going to pay for that," said Fatty."What d'ye take us for?""Oh, no.We must pay it," said Susan.
"Don't be foolish.Of course I'll pay."
"No," said Susan quietly, ignoring Etta's wink.And from her bosom she took a crumpled five-dollar bill.
"I should say you _were_ new," laughed John."You don't even know where to carry your money yet." And they all laughed, Susan and Etta because they felt gay and assumed the joke whatever it was must be a good one.Then John laid his hand over hers and said, "Put your money away."Susan looked straight at him."I can't allow it," she said."I'm not that poor--yet."John colored."I beg your pardon," he said.And when the bill came he compelled Fatty to let her pay a dollar and a quarter of it out of her crumpled five.The two girls were fascinated by the large roll of bills--fives, tens, twenties--which Fatty took from his trousers pocket.They stared open-eyed when he laid a twenty on the waiter's plate along with Susan's five.And it frightened them when he, after handing Susan her change, had left only a two-dollar bill, four silver quarters and a dime.He gave the silver to the waiter.
"Was that for a tip?" asked Susan.
"Yes," said Fatty."I always give about ten per cent of the bill unless it runs over ten dollars.In that case--a quarter a person as a rule.Of course, if the bill was very large, I'd give more." He was showing his amusement at her inquisitiveness.
"I wanted to know," explained she."I'm very ignorant, and I've got to learn.""That's right," said John, admiringly--with a touch of condescension."Don't be afraid to confess ignorance.""I'm not," replied Susan."I used to be afraid of not being respectable and that was all.Now, I haven't any fear at all.""You are a queer one!" exclaimed John."You oughtn't to be in this life.""Where then?" asked she.
"I don't know," he confessed.
"Neither do I." Her expression suddenly was absent, with a quaint, slight smile hovering about her lips.She looked at him merrily."You see, it's got to be something that isn't respectable.""What _do_ you mean?" demanded he.
Her answer was a laugh.
Fatty declared it too cold to chase about afoot--"Anyhow, it's late--nearly eleven, and unless we're quick all the stores'll be closed." The waiter called them a carriage; its driver promised to take them to a shop that didn't close till midnight on Saturdays.Said Fatty, as they drove away:
"Well, I suppose, Etta, you'll say you've never been in a carriage before.""Oh, yes, I have," cried Etta."Twice--at funerals."This made everyone laugh--this and the champagne and the air which no longer seemed cruel to the girls but stimulating, a grateful change from the close warmth of the room.As the boys were smoking cigarettes, they had the windows down.The faces of both girls were flushed and lively, and their cheeks seemed already to have filled out.The four made so much noise that the crowds on the sidewalk were looking at them--looking smilingly, delighted by the sight of such gayety.Susan was even gayer than Etta.She sang, she took a puff at John's cigarette; then laughed loudly when he seized and kissed her, laughed again as she kissed him; and she and John fell into each other's arms and laughed uproariously as they saw Fatty and Etta embracing.
