“It’s wonderful, but you shouldn’t have done this after giving me the trip to Hollywood.”
“You’ll have to have something to keep time by so you can get to the studio on time. Maybe I should have gotten you an alarm clock,” grinned her father.
“I packed one in her trunk,” smiled Mrs. Hardy. “Now hike and get into your things.”
Janet, tremendously happy and so thrilled she felt she was walking on air, hurried up to her room. After a quick bath, tapered off with a cool shower, she started dressing. Her outfit was new from the silken underthings to the sensible but attractive summer linen suit. The skirt, snug and well tailored, fitted beautifully and a small but bright blue tie added a note of color to her heavy, white silk shirtwaist.
The night air was warm and Janet decided to carry her coat. There was no use in putting it on and getting it mussed until necessary.
Standing in front of her dressing table, Janet looked around her room and a queer little lump caught in her throat. It was such a pleasant room; she would miss it, she knew, in the months to come.
Then her father called and she caught up the small traveling bag she was to carry on the plane, snapped out the light, and hurried down stairs.
“Step right along,” her father warned, and they hastened into the car and rolled around in front of the Thorne home down the block.
Henry Thorne, pacing up and down the porch, called to his wife and Helen, who appeared almost immediately. Both carried small overnight cases. As they came down the walk to the street, Henry Thorne turned off the lights in the house, locked the door, and followed them.
Now that the time of departure was near there seemed little to say. They had talked of it for so many hours it hardly seemed possible that they were on their way.