“No, we are going to be very kind and forgiving, and ask you and Frank. I believe Betty is planning it.”
“Good for her. She’s a brick! I wish, though, that we could clear up this business about the papers.”
“So do I. Wasn’t it unfortunate?”
“Yes. How is little Dodo coming on?”
“Not very well, I’m afraid,” and Grace sighed. The injury to the child hung like a black shadow, over her. “The specialist is going to see her soon again. He has some hopes.”
“That’s good; cheer up, Sis! Come on down town and I’ll blow you to a soda.”
“‘Blow’—such slang!”
“It’s no worse than ‘hike.’”
“I suppose not. Wait until I fix my hair.”
“Good night!” gasped Will. “I don’t want to wait an hour. I’m thirsty!”