"Have you any stamps, Judy?" she asked suddenly, as she hooked that young woman into her dress.
"As many as you want up to a dozen," answered Judy. "They are in the pill box on my desk."
Molly made her way through Judy's tumbled apartment and helped herself to the stamps.
"I'll return them to-morrow," she said absently, drawing a letter from her portfolio, slipping one stamp into the envelope, and sticking the other on the back.
"What in the world are you writing to a real estate firm for, Molly?" demanded Judy, looking over Molly's shoulder.
"Oh, just answering an ad."
"Are you so rich that you are going to buy a farm?"
"I wish I were."
Judy's curiosity never gave her any peace, and she now desired earnestly to know why Molly was corresponding with this strange firm.
"If it turns out well, I'll tell you," said Molly; "but if it doesn't, you'll never, never know."