"That's all right, Janet. You really didn't mean it."
"Yes, I did mean it," Janet declared truthfully. "If you only knew it, Rosie, there are lots of times I don't feel a bit ladylike! I often use cuss words inside to myself. Don't you?"
No, most emphatically, Rosie did not! She was saved, however, the necessity of having to acknowledge so embarrassing an evidence of feminine weakness by Janet's further pronouncement:
"I tell you what, Rosie, when you come to a place where you want to smash things up, a good big cuss word just helps an awful lot! Don't you think so?"
Rosie cleared her throat a little nervously. "Yes, Janet, I suppose it does."
"You bet it does! And what's more, women have got just as much right to use it as men, haven't they?"
Rosie wanted to cry out: "I don't think they want to! I know I don't!" but, under Janet's fiery glance, the words that actually spoke themselves were: "Yes, of—of course they have."
With the hearty agreement of every one present, there was no more to be said on that subject. Janet turned to another.
"Rosie, will you do something for me? Come and stay all night with me. I'll be so lonely I don't know what I'll do."
Rosie's heart sank. If she spent the night with Janet, she'd have no chance to talk to George Riley, for she'd be gone long before he got home. Besides, there was Dave McFadden, and the thought of sleeping near him was almost terrifying.