“Well, I hear it’s good.”
“Is a girls, is a music, is a dance in streets, is swell. Come on, Frank, what you say?”
“Well, I don’t know.”
“Cora be sore as hell at me if I see you and no bring you out. Maybe she treat you snotty, but she think you fine fellow, Frank. Come on, we all three go. We have a hell of a time.”
“O.K. If she’s willing, it’s a go.”
There were eight or ten people in the lunchroom when we got there, and she was back in the kitchen, washing dishes as fast as she could, to get enough plates to serve them.
“Hey. Hey Cora, look. Look who I bring.”
“Well for heaven’s sake. Where did he come from?”
“I see’m today a Glendale. He go to Santa Barbara with us.”
“Hello, Cora. How you been?”