“They’re looking for him,” the midget assured her briskly. “Mr. Bybee took a vote on whether he was to notify the police about David’s being gone, as well as Nita, and the vote was ‘No!’ That ought to make you feel happier!”
“Oh, it does!” Sally began to cry softly. “You have all been so kind, so kind! You said Mrs. Bybee sent the ammonia?” she asked wistfully.
“She certainly did, and she’s in the kitchen of the privilege car right now, making you some hot tea. She won’t say she’s sorry, probably, but she’ll try to make it up to you. She’s like that—always flying off the handle and suspicious of everybody, but she’s got a heart as big as Babe, the fat girl.”
“And so have you!” Sally told her brokenly, taking both of the tiny hands into one of hers and laying them softly against her lips.
“Ain’t love grand?” Mazie sighed deeply. “If it had been my sweetie, I’d a-fell for that line of Ma Bybee’s about him running off with Nita, but you sure stuck by him! I was in love like that once, when I was a kid. I married him, too, and he run off with the albino girl and took my grouch bag with him. Every damn cent I had! But it sure was sweet before we was married and he was nuts about me.”
“Aw, let the kid alone!” Sue slipped from the edge of the berth and yawned widely. “Gawd, I’m sleepy! If the cops don’t catch that Hula hussy I’m going out looking for her myself, and when I get through with her she’ll never shake another grass skirt! C’mon, Mazie. It’s three o’clock in the morning, and we’ve got eighteen shows ahead of us.”
“Maybe!” Mazie yawned. “If Pop wasn’t stringing us, we’ll be stranded in this burg. G’night, Sally. G’night, Midge. And say, Sally, even if this Dave boy has blowed and left you flat, you won’t have no trouble copping off another sweetie. Gus was telling us about that New York rube that’s trailing you. Hook up with him and you’ll wear diamonds. Believe me, kid, they ain’t none of ’em worth losing sleep over when you’ve got eighteen shows a day ahead of you. G’night.”
When they had gone the midget yanked the green curtains together with comical fierceness, then crawled under the top of the sheet that covered Sally.
“I’m going to sleep here with you, Sally,” she said. “I don’t take up much room.”
And the woman who was old enough to be Sally’s mother curled her 29-inch body in the curve of Sally’s right arm and laid her tiny cheek, as soft and wrinkled as a worn kid glove, in the hollow of Sally’s firm young neck.