“All right.” Muriel cast a laughing glance at Julia Peyton who was looking the picture of impotent wrath. She caught the glance and turned her head haughtily away. “I have no matches,” Muriel continued apologetically, “and the furnace isn’t handy. Shall I?” She made a move as though to tear the papers in half.
“Yes.” The welcome affirmation came with a shout.
“And we are all friends?” Muriel asked with sly geniality.
“Yes.” Again the shout echoed through the big room.
“Very well.” Muriel showed candid delight in tearing the papers intended to cause unhappiness into bits. “Please pardon us for having interrupted your meeting,” she went on. “We are going now. Good night. If any of you are thinking of starting in the show business I can give you pointers. I might even decide to lend you my dolls. Good night.”
She made a smiling move toward leaving the room. The three other girls and Miss Remson followed her. None of them had stepped half way down the aisle before they were hemmed in by a jubilant, chattering crowd. An impromptu reception started in the middle of the aisle. Leslie found half a dozen hands extended to clasp hers.
“Tell the girls if you can make them hear you that there are three big ginger cakes in the cake box, and that free lemonade is a feature of your show,” Miss Remson told Muriel.
In the midst of the cheer that hailed this good news Julia and Mildred skirted one side of the room, keeping as far from the jolly crowd as they could. They reached the door and hurried away from the meeting they had planned with such unkind zest. It had turned out very differently from their expectation.