“I suppose so,” he laughed. “Well, tit for tat. You tell me and I’ll tell you.”
“I trust to your honor,” she said, with mock seriousness. “I will tell you my secret. Really, I am not a movie actress—save by brevet.”
“I thought not!” he exclaimed with warmth.
“Why, they are very nice folk!” Ruth told him. “Much nicer than you suppose. I am really writing the scenario Mr. Hammond is producing.”
“Goodness!” he exclaimed. “A literary person?”
“Exactly.”
“But why didn’t Edie tell me something about you? She went over there and took a peep at you.”
“I fancied so. The girls thought her an Indian squaw. That would please Edie—if I know her at all,” said Ruth with sarcasm.
“I’ll have to tell her,” he grinned.
“Better not. She does not like us any too well. Us freshmen, I mean. You know,” Ruth decided to explain, “there is an insurmountable wall between freshmen and sophs.”