“Let’s hope so, though I’m not in the least bit hungry after the big meal we had at Youde’s.”
“That seems ages away,” replied Helen. “I’d almost forgotten the skating party.”
Margie, who had taken shelter under Janet’s coat, spoke up.
“It’s all the bus driver’s fault. We never should have left Youde’s.”
“But none of us wanted to spend the night there,” said Janet. “Of course we didn’t dream the snow would have drifted this much.”
“The driver should have known,” insisted Margie, and Janet thought her more than a little unreasonable, but then Margie was probably thoroughly chilled and likely to disagree with everything and everyone.
The minutes passed slowly, dragging as Janet had never known they could. The cold increased in intensity and some of the other girls, not as warmly dressed as Janet and Helen, began to complain.
“My feet are getting numb,” said Bernice Grogan, a slip of a little black-haired Irish girl.
“Better keep them moving,” said Ed Rickey. “Here, I’ll move them for you until the circulation starts back.”
Ed knelt down on the floor and took Bernice’s boots in his hands, massaging her feet vigorously.