“Why?”
“Because I haven’t a bally thing to do this evening.”
“That’s silly!––with the entire town outside.... I’m glad you called me up, anyway. I’m tired and bored and exceedingly cross.”
“What are you doing, Miss Dumont?”
“Absolutely and idiotically nothing. I’m merely sitting here on the only chair in this scantily furnished house, and trying to plan what sort of carpets, draperies and furniture to buy. Can you imagine the scene?”
“I thought you had some things.”
“I haven’t anything! Not even a decent mirror. I 80 stand on the slippery edge of a bath tub to get a complete view of myself. And then it’s only by sections.”
“That’s tragic. Have you a cook?”
“I have. But no dining room table. I eat from a tray on a packing case.”
“Have you a waitress?”