"I do wish you'd be more sociable, Linda!" she exclaimed, taking a dance dress out of the closet, and surveying it mournfully.
"I'm sorry, Lou—I'm busy," replied her companion, without looking up.
"Well, just give me five minutes. Then I'll leave you alone."
"All right," agreed Linda, trying to be patient.
"Gaze on this dress, please. Don't you think it's an absolute wash-out?"
"I never heard of anybody's washing chiffon," remarked Linda, facetiously. "Why not try having it cleaned?"
"Don't be smart! You're wasting your precious time.... But seriously, Linda, could I or couldn't I wear it Saturday night to that dance Ted and his boy friend are taking us to?"
"I suppose you could. But why not send home for another?"
"There isn't time. Besides, I'd love something new.... Here's my idea, Linda. Let's take tomorrow off—entirely off—and go on a shopping bat. I'm positively sick for one!"
"For the love of Pete!" cried Linda, in exasperation. "You don't know what you're asking, Lou. Tomorrow they're going to bring an _autogiro_ to the school, and Mr. Eckers said there was some chance of my being allowed to fly it!"