"Of course Ellen will," Mrs. O'Brien said. "I'm sure she will, for if she's not working tomorrow she'll not be having to save herself."
Rosie, willing to accept this assurance, allowed Terry to draw her away from the kitchen and out to the little front porch. "But you know, Terry, of course she won't."
Terry laughed a little grimly. "Of course not!" He paused a moment in thought. "Say, Rosie, don't it beat all the way she goes along doing just as she pleases? Hardly any one calls her bluff. I can see just how it was in that office today. She put up such an ugly fight that they were glad to shell out an extra five spot that she hadn't begun to earn just to get rid of her. And look at her here at home. She wouldn't hand out a nickel to the rest of us if we were starving. She'd spend it on an ice-cream soda for herself."
Rosie sighed. "I don't mind about us. We can take care of ourselves. But poor old Jarge Riley, Terry. Living right here with us wouldn't you suppose he'd get to know her?"
"Well,"—Terry spoke in a tone somewhat didactic—"you forget one thing, Rosie: Jarge is in love."
"But why is he in love?" Rosie persisted.
Terry shook his head gloomily. "Search me."
CHAPTER XXVII
ROSIE URGES COMMON SENSE
"Why is he in love?"