"You'll be here at six, then?"
"Will I be here at six, sis? Say, will a fish swim?"
He fitted his cap carefully upon his head and pulled the vizor low over his eyes.
"So long, kiddo!" He crossed the marble corridor, stepped into the gold elevator, the filigree door snapped shut, and he shot upward.
Miss Ethyl waited a moment and then pitched her voice to a careful note of indifference.
"I'll bet the million-dollar kid asked you to elope with him."
Miss Gertrude tilted her coiffure forward and ran her amber back-comb through her front hair.
"No," she said, with the same indifference, "he didn't ask me to elope with him; he just wanted to know if I'd tour Hester Street with him in his canoe."
"I don't see no medals on you fer bein' the end man of the minstrel show. Don't let a boat trip to Coney go to your head; you might get brain-fever."
Gertrude Sprunt cast her eyes ceilingward.