“I thought so from the accent,” said Mr Brown. “So our talk sort of goes over the top, does it? Well, you’ll learn American soon, if you stick around.”
“I’ve learned some already,” said Jill. The relief of meeting Nelly had made her feel very happy. She liked this smooth-haired young man. “A man on the train this morning said to me, ‘Would you care for the morning paper, sister?’ I said, ‘No, thanks, brother, I want to look out of the window and think!’”
“You meet a lot of fresh guys on trains,” commented Mr Brown austerely. “You want to give ’em the cold-storage eye.” He turned to Nelly. “Did you go down to Ike, as I told you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you cop?”
“Yes. I never felt so happy in my life. I’d waited over an hour on that landing of theirs, and then Johnny Miller came along, and I yelled in his ear that I was after work, and he told me it would be all right. He’s awfully good to girls who’ve worked in shows for him before. If it hadn’t been for him I might have been waiting there still.”
“Who,” enquired Jill, anxious to be abreast of the conversation, “is Ike?”
“Mr Goble. Where I’ve just got work. Goble and Cohn, you know.”
“I never heard of them!”
The young man extended his hand.