"What?"
"Tee-hee!—it sounds silly to repeat it."
"You got the Schump eyes, Stella. I always used to say, with his big blue ones, your poor father ought to been a girl, too."
"'Say,' he said to me, he said, just like that, 'I know a society who will pay you a big fat sum if you'll sign over them eyes for post-mortem laboratory work. Believe me, Bettina,' he said, just like that, 'those are some goo-goos!'"
"'Goo-goos'?"
"Yes, ma—the way I look out of them."
"See, Stella, if you'd only mix with the young men and not be so stiff-like with them. See! Is he the sober, genteel kind who could sit out an evening in a self-respectin' girl's front parlor?"
"I—I can't ask a fellow if he didn't ask me, can I? I can't make a pusher out of myself."
"A girl don't have to make a pusher out of herself to have beaus; it's natural for her to have them in moderation. I don't want my girl shut out of her natural pleasures."
"'Believe me, Bettina,' he said, 'those are some goo-goos'—just like that, he said it."