“Why the sandwiches?” asked Janet.
“I’ve never known the time when Henry Thorne wasn’t hungry. He’s been that way ever since he was a little boy and his wife is too excited to think about that. We’ll have them all over for lunch after we get home.”
“But it will be late. Way after one o’clock and Helen ought to be in bed. She has been keeping terrific hours with the rehearsals.”
“It won’t do her a bit of harm this time. Being with her father will do her more good than anything else. Wrap these sandwiches up and put them in the breadbox so they’ll keep good and moist. Then slice some lemon for the ice tea and put the slices back in the ice box. We’ll stop and get some ice cream on our way in to town.”
They hurried around the kitchen until Janet’s mother noticed the disarray of her daughter.
“For land’s sake, Janet, you’re a sight. Working with the scenery and lights again at school? Well, hurry upstairs and clean up. Then slip into that pale green print that makes your hair look golden. We’ll be ready in five minutes.”
Janet forgot her fatigue and raced upstairs, splashed water on her flushed cheeks, followed that with a few hasty dabs of a powder puff to take the shine off her skin, and then went to her own room where she put on fresh, sheer hose and the green print that was so becoming.
Her hair, with its natural curl, needed only a quick brushing to bring out the highlights.
Down in the driveway her father pushed the horn button and her mother called.
“We’re ready, Janet.”