"I'm not hungry," said Chester.
"But I am," said Mildred. They went in.
A superior waiter handed Mildred a large menu card. "May I order just anything I want?" she asked eagerly.
"Wouldn't you like some nice watercress salad and some tea and lady-fingers?" Chester asked, hopefully.
"Pooh! Why, there's no nourishment in that at all!" Mildred was studying the menu card. "I want a great big lobster, and some asparagus. And then I want some nice chicken salad with mayonnaise. And then some pistache ice-cream. And, oh, yes, a piece of huckleberry pie."
To Chester that lunch seemed the longest experience of his life. It seemed to him that no lobster ever looked redder, no mayonnaise yellower, no pistache ice-cream greener and no huckleberry pie purpler. Mildred ate steadily. Now and then she made little joyful noises of approbation.
When lunch was over at last, they started for Hoboken.
"It's a nice pleasant trip by ferry-boat," a policeman told them.
"I don't think I'd care for a boat trip," said Mildred.
"But we have to go to Hoboken," Chester expostulated.