“I couldn’t go up again tonight. No, I didn’t know they were going to do anything tonight. Well, I’m glad you were there to represent us. I got enough of it this afternoon.” Babs again.
It was Cara talking, of course, and she had told Babs that she had just been down to the Community House. That some of the ladies went down to fix things up, and when Cara and Dorothy Blair, one of the older girls, were passing and saw the lights, they went in.
“And say, Babs,” Cara began again over the wire, in that way that means something particular is going to be disclosed. “If I were you I’d tell Nicky not to come around there any more. You know how fussy those old ladies are about the family junk.”
“Oh yes, I know,” Babs readily agreed, and her toes working nervously up and down in her slippers didn’t show over the telephone, of course.
“Not that he isn’t all right,” continued Cara, thoughtfully, “but just because he’s a small boy, you know.”
“I don’t want him to come around,” Babs quietly declared. “There are too many little things there, and if anything gets mislaid the women would be sure to blame it on the boys.”
“Coming down early in the morning?” Cara asked next.
“I suppose I’ll have to,” Babs answered. “We’ll be expected to do everything from polishing furniture to darning Civil War socks, I suppose,” she added laughing lightly.
“I’ll call for you about nine, shall I?” Cara asked.
“I’ll be ready, and thanks, Cara, for calling.”