“Will the ladies not show me some of their beautiful dresses?” asked Zerlina presently.
“We haven’t much to show,” replied Ruth, “but we’ll be glad to show what we have.” She pulled herself lazily from the bed and opened the door of a wardrobe at one side of the room.
“Ruth, you show her your fine things,” called Bab. “I haven’t a rag worth seeing. Get out your pink lingerie and your leghorn with the shaded roses. They would please her eye.”
“Why don’t you show her your organdie, Bab?” asked Ruth. “It’s just as pretty as my pink, any day.”
“Oh, very well,” returned Bab, opening her side of the massive clothes press and spreading the dress on the bed before the admiring eyes of Zerlina. “‘A poor thing, but mine own,’” she said. “I certainly never thought to be displaying my rich wardrobe to anyone. It’s entirely a new sensation.”
In the meantime Ruth had piled her own gauzy finery on the bed beside Bab’s, and Zerlina feasted her gaze on the pink lace-trimmed princess dresses and the flower bedecked hats.
“Some day you must have pretty dresses, too, Zerlina,” said Ruth from the depths of the wardrobe, as she replaced the things; “some day when you are a great singer.”
There was no reply, and Bab, who was busy folding her dress, looked quickly around. Zerlina’s arm was in the scrap basket. She had looked up as Ruth spoke, and catching Bab’s eye, dropped the crumpled note she had just seized. An angry blush overspread her face and she bit her lip in embarrassment.
“I must be going,” she said. “It is late.”
Bab did not answer. She was thinking deeply. Here was positive proof that Zerlina and José were working together in some way.