"Can you work the lift yourself? Hadn't I better take you up?"
"Oh, no," she said, and held out her hand.
They shook, she firmly, he with the flabby, diffident clasp of childhood and old age.
"You're a funny kid," said Fitz.
"You're rather a dear," said Eve.
She entered the elevator, closed the door, and disappeared upward, at the pace of a very footsore and weary snail.
Mrs. Burton was much cheered by Mrs. Williams's visit, as who that struggles is not by the notice of the rich and the mighty?
"My dear," she said, when Eve entered, "she is so charming, so natural; she has promised to give a tea for me, and to present me to some of her friends. I hope you like the boy—Fitz—Fritz—whatever his name is. It would be so nice if you were to be friends."
"He is nice," said Eve, "ever so nice—but so dull."
"What did you talk about?" asked Mrs. Burton,