“If you're going to make a perfect fright of me,” pouted Zoie, “I just won't see him.”
“He isn't coming to see YOU,” reminded Aggie. “He's coming to see the baby.”
“If Jimmy doesn't come soon, I'll not HAVE any baby,” answered Zoie.
“Get into bed,” said Aggie, and she proceeded to turn down the soft lace coverlets.
“Where did I put my cap?” asked Zoie. Her eyes caught the small knot of lace and ribbons for which she was looking, and she pinned it on top of her saucy little curls.
“In you go,” said Aggie, motioning to the bed.
“Wait,” said Zoie impressively, “wait till I get my rose lights on the pillow.” She pulled the slender gold chain of her night lamp; instantly the large white pillows were bathed in a warm pink glow—she studied the effect very carefully, then added a lingerie pillow to the two more formal ones, kicked off her slippers and hopped into bed. One more glance at the pillows, then she arranged the ribbons of her negligee to fall “carelessly” outside the coverlet, threw one arm gracefully above her head, half-closed her eyes, and sank languidly back against her pillows.
“How's that?” she breathed faintly.
Controlling her impulse to smile, Aggie crossed to the dressing-table with a business-like air and applied to Zoie's pink cheeks a third coating of powder.
Zoie sat bolt upright and began to sneeze. “Aggie,” she said, “I just hate you when you act like that.” But suddenly she was seized with a new idea.