Mabel got up quickly from the bed.
"Yes, of course."
Sarah rose to her feet.
"Ach, you needn't go! And"—she looked round the disorderly room—"couldn't we fix here a little up once?"
Ellen and Mabel shouted with laughter.
"There isn't time to fix here a little up once."
When the door was closed, Sarah looked about once more. She was frightened by William's coming, she was distressed that he should see such a room. Ellen and Mabel had not even made their beds. Those, at least, she would spread up. If he would only delay for a few minutes, she might make the room look presentable. She drew the curtain across the alcove where the washstands stood, and hung her room-mates' dresses in the closets. For an instant she was tempted to toss them in on the floor and shut the door on them. But Sarah had had too few nice dresses in her life to treat them roughly. The shoes were swept into the closets, the bureau drawers were filled and closed; then, as she heard a step in the hall, she smoothed her hair and went to the door.
"Wil—" she began, and then gasped. It was a man who stood without, but it was not William. No; it was not even a man. There was a fluffy tie above the collar of his rain-coat, his derby hat was pinned on with a hat-pin, the hand which he held out was decked with rings.
"What do you mean?" demanded Sarah, trembling.
"Aren't you glad to see me?" giggled Ellen.