When they finally left the hall the lights were beginning to dim. The four of them went out into the quiet streets together. The street-cars had ceased to rattle except at long intervals. They walked in twos, arms interlaced, talking in subdued tones. A cool breeze had sprung up.
At a corner drug store they partook of foamy soda-water and scooped, with long-handled spoons, refreshing mouthfuls of ice-cream from their glasses. Perched on high stools before an onyx fountain, they regarded themselves in the mirror and smiled at each other in the reflection.
At Lulu's rooming-house they lingered again, talking in subdued tones on the brownstone stoop.
"I'll call for you early to-morrow night, Miss Harkins; and, since we decided to make a party of it, me and Polly'll call for you and Miss Tracy together."
"That'll be nice," she said.
"I'm glad you have no other fellow—I don't like no partnership stuff."
"I love Coney," she said.
At last they separated, and the two girls tiptoed up to the terrific heat of their box.
"Phew!" gasped Lilly. "Ain't this just awful?"
Lulu lighted the gas and turned ecstatic eyes upon her friend.