"I'll get you ivory, with a bit of real lace!"
"Oh, momie, momie, I can scarcely wait!"
"What did she say, Marcy, when she asked—invited you?"
"She?"
"Nonie."
"Why—she—didn't invite me, momie."
"But you just said—"
"It was her brother Archie invited me. We called for him at Columbia Law
School, you see. It was he invited me. Of course Nonie wants me and said
'Yes' right after him—but it's he—who wants Nonie and me to be chums.
I—He—I thought—I—told—you—momie."
Suddenly Marcia's eyes, almost with the perpendicular slits of her kitten's in them, seemed to swish together like portières, shutting Hattie behind them with her.
"Oh—my Marcy!" said Hattie, dimly, after a while, as if from their depths. "Marcy, dearest!"