“It’s the rottenest luck.”
“Oh it’s a darn shame. I know she can act. The trouble
is she has too much sense of humor to play up to managers and people.”
“Oh the stage is a nasty dirty game, isn’t it Jojo?”
“The nawstiest, my deah.”
Jimmy couldn’t keep his eyes off her; her small squarely shaped hands, her neck molded with a gold sheen between the great coil of coppery hair and the bright blue dress.
“Well my deah ...” Oglethorpe got to his feet.
“Jojo I’m going to sit here a little longer.”
Jimmy was staring at the thin triangles of patent leather that stuck out from Oglethorpe’s pink buff spats. Cant be feet in them. He stood up suddenly.
“Now Mr. Herf couldnt you keep me company for fifteen minutes? I’ve got to leave here at six and I forgot to bring a book and I cant walk in these shoes.”