"Oh, I think a girl's got as good a right as a man to have a good time," lied John.
"Don't say things you don't believe," said Susan. "It isn't necessary."
"I can hand that back to you. You weren't frank, yourself, when you said you wished you'd been born in the class of your friend—and of my friend Fatty, too."
Susan's laugh was confession. The champagne was dancing in her blood. She said with a reckless toss of the head:
"I was born nothing. So I'm free to become anything I please—anything except respectable."
Here Fatty broke in. "I'll tell you what let's do. Let's all go shopping. We can help you girls select your things."
Susan laughed. "We're going to buy about three dollars' worth.
There won't be any selecting. We'll simply take the cheapest."
"Then—let's go shopping," said John, "and you two girls can help Fatty and me select clothes for you."
"That's the talk!" cried Fatty. And he summoned the waiter. "The bill," said he in the manner of a man who likes to enjoy the servility of servants.
"We hadn't paid for our supper," said Susan. "How much was it, Etta?"