“Hope he’ll hurry up,” groaned Cologne, sitting with Dorothy and Tavia and some of the other girls. “My foot’s asleep.”
“Hush-a-by! don’t wake it up,” drawled Tavia. “You know, Cologne, you haven’t really had a good sleep this half.”
“Especially this last month or six weeks,” groaned Ned Ebony. “Hasn’t old Olaine just kept us on the hop?”
“Why,” said Nita Brent, thoughtfully, “I had been thinking Olaine was a whole lot nicer than she used to be.”
“Certain sure she’s done better by us since Easter,” said Molly Richards, earnestly.
“You’re famous for seeing the best side of a thing, Dicky,” laughed Ned. “I tell you she’s pushed me hard.”
“And me!” “And us-uns!”
The wail became general. Dorothy’s mellow laugh brought them to time.
“Where does the giggle come in, Miss Dale?” demanded Edna Black.
“Sh! don’t disturb your pose,” begged one of the others. “That photographer is getting ready.”