“Why?” he ventured.
“Yo’ seemed to have difficulty in teahing yo’self away.”
Beck’s alarm became positive.
“I have been looking for you everywhere,” he said in earnest defense.
“And then,” she continued, as if to eliminate herself from consideration as quickly as possible, “ah yo’ not in unifohm?”
She turned toward him, and inclining her head over her white shoulder, looked at him with an eye to sartorial effects.
“If you only knew how hot this dress uniform is!” He scoured his whole visage with his handkerchief, and angrily pulled at the collar that was binding his neck.
“But just think how remahkably well yo’ all look in it,” she said, her lips parting in a mocking smile.
“Don’t, please,” he said, quite seriously. “Do you think we live only for uniforms?”
“Don’t yo’?” she asked. “Look at that red commodo’e theah. He comes into the hotel pahlo’ every night buhsting in that unifohm—he wouldn’t give it up fo’ the wo’ld.”