A little glimmer of amusement came into Freda’s eyes.
“Well—not first hand experience. We read—we go to moving pictures.”
“I suppose lots of people are picking up ideas from the moving pictures,” Barbara commented carelessly.
One of the Bates boys was drawing something from his pocket. Barbara looked at it indifferently, Allie with a frown of annoyance.
“Didn’t I tell you, Tony, to cut that stuff out?”
“We’ll all be cutting it out soon enough,” said Tony. “Won’t be any. This is all right. Tapped father’s supply. A taste for every one and a swallow for me.”
He was a sallow thin young person whom the sight of his own flask seemed to have waked into sudden joviality.
“I don’t want any,” said Allie. “Don’t waste it.”
Then as Tony Bates ignored her protest, she drained her glass accustomedly.
Barbara took her highball without a change of expression or color. Freda tried to refuse but they laughed at her.