"I'm pretty good," said Nick, modestly. Then the outrageousness of her conduct struck him afresh. "Say, who're you, anyway?"
"My name's Berry—short for Bernice.... What's yours, Pan?"
"Nick—that is—Nick."
"Ugh, terrible! I'll stick to Pan. What d'you do when you're not Panning?" Then, at the bewilderment in his face: "What's your job?"
"I work in the Ideal Garage. Say, you're pretty nosey, ain't you?"
"Yes, pretty.... That accounts for your nails, h'm?" She looked at her own brown paws. "'Bout as bad as mine. I drove one hundred and fifty miles to-day."
"Ya-as, you did!"
"I did! Started at six. And I'll probably drive back to-night."
"You're crazy!"
"I know it," she agreed, "and it's wonderful.... Can you play the Tommy Toddle?"