“Up the whole four flights? The elevator is working.”
“D——n the elevator!” said the outrageous Darcy.
“A few weeks ago you were damning it because it wouldn’t carry up your lazy body. Isn’t there a difference now?”
“I don’t care; it isn’t the difference I want. I want to look like something. Gloria, I’m desperate.”
“No, child. That isn’t despair. It’s temper.”
“It’s not.”
“Go back to Andy’s and work it off.”
“I wont!”
“Very well.” With a sigh for her interrupted task, Gloria selected a hat, set it carefully upon her splendid hair and pinned it in place. “You’ll excuse me, won’t you, my dear?” she added in tones which aroused her visitor’s alarmed suspicions.
“Where are you going? To see Mr. Dunne?”