Jerry walked into the group of men, chewing in long, steady rolls. “Gum, gum, nothing but gum,” she chanted, then looked at them piteously. “Nothing for breakfast but gum! Can’t anyone bring coffee and rolls to the gum-chewer? Anyone?”
“Not unless you let me hold your gum while you have breakfast,” one romantic youth threw at her.
Joy watched with breathless interest.
“I have never seen such a girl!”
“She’s a marvel,” conceded Barnett. “Gets younger all the time—and I gather she isn’t as young as she looks.”
The appearance of Tom in the doorway cut short further revelations.
“I have a feeling that I’m going to trail you to-day,” Barnett said, rising. “And as for to-night at Prom—words are futile!”
His eyes caressed her. It was no moment for Tom to join them. She felt as if something within her were singing. And Tom came over to her—Tom, with his chubby red face and eyes that could never look tenderly at anything!
“Well, Joy, what’s doing along the Rialto?”
“N-nothing much, so early in the day; what does one expect at this hour?” she managed to bring out, hoping that Tom did not notice anything unusual in her manner.