"Hustle is my ancestral name," stated Cissie. "I'm right in high to-day."
"I'll bet a bet you are," was the reply with a tinge of bitterness in it.
Miss Parmenter's pleasantly decorated face took on an expression of innocent frankness. "What ever made you tell me that your Scottie man was slow? I think he's a winner. I've fallen for him like—like an avalanche."
"You can have him. But where do you get that Cary stuff you were working?"
"Start a bath for me, will you, Mike? Oh, that. He asked me to. We're awful pals. Just like that." She crooked her two perfectly manicured little fingers together
Pat grunted.
"You know you told me to go as far as I liked, dee-rie."
"Well, you did, didn't you?"
"Oh, not half," cooed the b.f. "He's going to drive me back home after the wedding."