"Oh, I guess you'll get along all right."
Elfie rose, and, going to the mirror, gave her hat and hair a few deft little touches, after which she surveyed herself critically. With serene self-satisfaction, she said:
"Oh, that's a cinch! But I like to leave well enough alone, and if I had to make a change right now it would require a whole lot of thought and attention, to say nothing of the inconvenience, and I'm so nicely settled in my flat." Suddenly her eye lighted on the pianola. Going to it, she exclaimed: "Say, dearie, when did you get the piano-player? I got one of them phonographs, but this has got that beat a city block. How does it work? What did it cost?"
"I don't know," laughed Laura.
"Well, Jerry's got to stake me to one of these." Looking over the rolls on top, she mumbled to herself: "Tannhauser, William Tell, Chopin." Louder, she said: "Listen, dear. Ain't you got anything else except all this high-brow stuff?"
"What do you want?"
"Oh, something with a regular tune to it." Looking at the empty box on the pianola, she exclaimed: "Oh, here's one; just watch me tear this off."
The roll was the ragtime tune of "Bon-Bon Buddy—My Chocolate Drop." She started to play. Pushing wide open the tempo lever she worked the pedals with the ingenuous delight and enthusiasm of a child.
"Ain't it grand?" she cried.
"Gracious, Elfie, don't play so loud!" exclaimed Laura, who reëntered. "What's the matter?"