“Yes, I do,” agreed the girl, “Max, if you’re still here, I’d be glad to have you come to lunch with me tomorrow. We’re allowed to have men to meals, aren’t we, Mrs. Hilliard?”
“Certainly, dear.”
“Nix on that!” protested the young man immediately. “Can you imagine me—one lone fellow—in that dining room full of dames? Looking me over and snickering at the way I wear my hair or tie my shoes? Nothing doing! I’ll call for you at one, Mary Lou, and we’ll go out somewhere to lunch.”
“O.K.,” agreed the girl, smiling. “See you then!”
CHAPTER IX
Lunch at the Bellevue
Mary Louise slept late the following morning. The dining-room doors had been closed for an hour when Mrs. Hilliard finally came into her room.
“What time is it, Mrs. Hilliard?” she inquired, opening her eyes and staring at the bright sunlight pouring through the windows.
“It’s almost eleven o’clock. I thought you had better sleep this morning, Mary Louise, on account of your head. How do you feel?”
“Oh, I’m all right, Mrs. Hilliard, thank you. But this is no time for anybody with a job to get up! I’ll get fired.”
The woman laughed.