"All right, I s'pose." She tried to be noncommittal.
Her nervousness almost betrayed her.
"Ain't you seen him lately?" Slim insisted.
Polly peeped into the wagon before she answered the question. "Yes—I see him every once in a while."
In an effort to change the subject of conversation, and get him away from all thoughts of Bud, she asked: "Say, Slim, what's a boudoir?"
"A what whar?" stuttered Slim.
"A boudoir," Polly repeated.
Slim was puzzled, and looked it. Then a new thought lighted up his face.
"You don't mean a Budweiser, do you?"
Polly, deeply serious, replied: "No—that ain't it—boudoir."