"I wasn't trying to be nasty, Ethyl—you're welcome to an appointment every twenty minutes so far as I'm concerned."
Miss Ethyl appeared appeased.
"You know yourself, Gert, you gotta way about you. A dollar tip ain't nothin' for you. But look at me—I've forgot there's anything bigger'n a quarter in circulation."
"There's a great deal in knowing human nature. Why, I can almost tell a fellow's first name by looking at his half-moons."
"Believe me, Gert, it ain't your glossy finish that makes the hit; it's a way you've got of making a fellow think he's the whole show."
"I do try to make myself agreeable," admitted Miss Sprunt.
"Agreeable! You can look at a guy with that Oh-I-could-just-listen-to-you-talk-for-ever expression, and by the time you're through with him he'll want to take his tens out of the water and sign over his insurance to you."
"Manicuring is a business like anything else," said Miss Sprunt, by no means displeased. "You sure do have to cater to the trade."
"Well, believe me—" began Miss Ethyl.
But Miss Gertrude suddenly straightened, smiled, and turned toward her table.