"Ha, ha!" said he. "That's a good one! Well, where on earth did you get that one?"
"Off Sadie Whirtle!" cried Kern; and springing up gleefully from the sofa, began to pirouette and kick about the bleak office.
The young man watched her, buttoning his overcoat, his specious merriment dying.... For all the high wages she earned, the Works was of course the last place on earth for her; but for the moment that did not happen to be the point.
"Was it not bein' a lady to say the word like he did?" said Kern, swaying about and waving her arms like wings. "I told Sadie Whirtle it wasn't netiquette, but Sadie she said it wasn't funny without you used the swear. And I did want to make you laugh.... She druther be funny than netiquette, Sadie said."
The young man picked up his bag again, his face intent. "I'm late with my calls," said he. "Tell your mother that I mayn't be back for dinner."
"Sadie she heard a lady say damn once right out, a customer in the store, in a velvet suit--"
"Now stop that foolish dancing, Corinne."
Kern stopped dancing. She still looked a little pale from her illness, which had cost her seven pounds. That morning she had donned her working-clothes expectantly, but she had changed since coming in, and that accounted for her favorite red dress. The dress was a strict copy of the slender mode; she looked very small, indeed, in it. She wore a brave red ribbon in her hair, a necklace of red beads, and a long gilt chain which glittered splendidly as she moved.
"What makes you look at me that way, Mr. V.V.?"
The young man gave a small start and sigh.