"I'll be over about eight, then—after he goes."
"All right. Bring what you need, and send for the other stuff. You better put in a party dress; we might get a date for to-night, for all I know. You know you always brought me luck when it come to dates. I ain't had a chum since that could bring them round like you."
"Oh, Loo! I ain't thinkin' about such things."
"Sure you ain't; but it won't hurt you to know you're livin', will it?—and to chaperon your friend?"
"No," admitted Lil.
"Well, so long! I'll see you later. Don't let on to Charley I was over. He ain't got no truck for me."
They embraced.
"Good-by for a little while, Loo."
"Good-by, dearie."
Lilly watched her friend pass down the narrow hall, then she closed the door. Left alone, she crossed to the window and leaned out well beyond the casement—a Demoiselle whose three lilies were despair, anger, and fear. The stagnant air, savored with frying pork, weighted her down with its humidity; her brow puckered into tiny lines.