“She had one object in life just then, and that was to get out of here.”
“We’re kindred spirits, then, even if she doesn’t care for jazz. Say, I’m going down to dinner, Ogden,” added the boy eagerly. “I’m going to get out of these infernal swaddling clothes—”
Ogden laughed. “There you are kindred spirits, too,” he said. “The peach has it in for that dressing-gown.”
Hugh glanced down over it. “That’s queer. You’d think a girl would just revel in it.”
“Probably she would if you hadn’t been wearing it.”
Hugh looked inquiring.
“Miss Frink ‘fussed’ her with all that Prince Charming stuff.”
The boy shook his head. “What was Miss Frink up to, anyway?”
“Why, Miss Duane used to be in Ross Graham’s—three days ago; and she sold your benefactress the royal robe, and told her it was fit for Prince Charming, not knowing whom it was for.”
“And that ‘fussed’ her?” asked Hugh incredulously. “Aren’t girls the limit? What did she care who it was for, so she made the sale?”