“You’ve made a dent on Jack Barnett—I can see those.” He gave her a look of appraisal. “Hang it, Joy, I knew you’d put a crimp in all the gold diggers and hundredth anniversaries around.”
“Speaking of hundredth anniversaries, my roommates—they’re—well, I’ve never seen anything like them before.”
He looked over to where Sarah was sitting with her hand on the coat-sleeve of a dazzled youth, gazing up at him with her shadowed, speaking eyes. Then his eyes wandered to where Jerry was singing a song for her breakfast—
“Come to my home in the sewer
Said the cock-roach to his mate—
Where the air is so foul and impew-er
And the swimming’s simply great!”
“That’s because this is your first Prom,” he said.
The day passed in swift confusion of events and men, and chattering girls, and efforts to chatter at least as much and as entertainingly as the others did, if not more. In the afternoon they danced at the different fraternity houses; and wherever they went, Jack Barnett followed, to cut in on Joy, and to thrill her with his tenderly smiling eyes. It was a mammoth achievement to be rushed by the big man of college; and Tom was gloatingly impressed.
“You’ve got Jack Barnett going! I guess my taste isn’t so bad—eh, what, Joy?”