"Jack's all right," said Billy. "We ain't seen Mrs. Jack since the day after you was took, but she's all to the good, of course, except she's been about crazy about you, like the rest of us."
"Oh, you poor, poor people!" moaned Rhoda.
Porter essayed a smile with his cracked lips.
"But, say, you do look elegant, Miss Rhoda. You ain't the same girl!"
Rhoda blushed through her tan.
"I forgot these," she said; "I've worn them so long."
"It ain't the clothes," said Billy, "and it ain't altogether your fine health. It's more—I don't know what it is! It's like the desert!"
"That's what I tell her," said Kut-le.
"Say," said Billy, scowling, "you've got a nerve, cutting in as if this was a parlor conversation you had cut in on casual. Just keep out of this, will you!"
Rhoda flushed.