“Such a voice! That woman must be a perfect tyrant. The way she shouted at poor Alty.”
Gloria coughed loudly and meaningly, but the girls in the wash room rattled on.
“Couldn’t a’been her mother?”
“No—a Steppy, Jack calls her.”
“But why drag her away like that? In the middle of the night.”
“Family affairs,” tittered a new voice. “Wasn’t it dramatic?”
“Can’t say I think so, in an open hall and at midnight,” some one grumbled.
“But she wired first.”
“She should have sent the fire department first. Poor Alty was almost choked with indignation.”
Trixy slammed down the shoes she was attempting to clean, but her warning was altogether misinterpreted, for Jean Engle popped from behind the screen and claimed both Trixy and Gloria as additional debaters.