“You’re in it for the romance there is in it, Betty. I must confess it isn’t altogether my idea of a good time,” Caroline said.
“I know, you would go in for military training for women, and that sort of thing. There’s a woman over there asking for more olives, and she’s eaten a plate full of them already.”
“They’re as big as hen’s eggs anyhow,” Caroline groaned, “and almost as extravagant. I don’t see how Nancy’ll go through the first month at this rate. There she comes now. Doesn’t she look nice in that color of green?”
“How do you like my party?” Nancy asked, slipping into the empty chair between Dick and Billy; “isn’t the food good and nourishing, and aren’t there a lot of nice-looking people here?”
“Very much, and it is, and there are,” Dick answered with affectionate eyes on her.
“The salad is alligator pear served in half sections, with French dressing,” she said dreamily. “I’m too happy to eat, but I’ll have some with you. Look at them all, don’t they look relaxed and soothed and refreshed? Every individual has a perfectly balanced ration of the most superlatively good quality, slowly beginning to assimilate within him.”
“I don’t see many respectable working girls,” Billy said.
“There are though,—from the different shops and offices on the avenue. There is a contingent from the Columbia summer school coming to-morrow evening. This group coming in now is newspaper people.”
“Who’s the fellow sitting over in the corner with that Vie de Bohême hat? He looks familiar, but I can’t seem to place him.”