“Oh, what a naughty speech! If you weren’t Sanford’s very good friend, I’d never speak to you again!”
“I don’t see how you two men can be friends,” put in Aunt Abby, “when you’re both after that same presidency.”
“That’s the answer!” Eunice laughed. “Alvord is San’s greatest friend, because it’s going to be an easy thing for Sanford to win the election from him! If there were a more popular candidate in Alvord’s place, or a less popular one in Sanford’s place, it wouldn’t be such a walkover!”
“You—you—” Hendricks looked at Eunice in speechless admiration. The dancing eyes were impudent, the red lips curved scornfully, and she made a daring little moue at him as she readjusted her black lace veil so that a heavy bit of its pattern covered her mouth.
“What do you do that for? Move that darned flower, so I can see you talk!”
She laughed then, and wrinkled her straight little nose until the veil billowed mischievously.
“I wish you’d take that thing off,” Hendricks said, irritatedly; “it annoys me.”
“And pray, sir, who are you, that I should shield you from annoyance? My veil is a necessary part of my costume.”
“Necessary nothing! Take it off, I tell you!”
“Merry Christmas!” and Eunice gave him such a scornful shrug of her furred shoulders that Hendricks laughed out, in sheer enjoyment of her audacity.