Tucking the check into the wee pocket of her sweater, Sylvia caught up her pert beret and perched it upon her curls.
"So long!" she called, looking back over her shoulder as she opened the door. "So long, Marcia! I'll be back as soon as ever I can."
The haste with which she disappeared, suddenly precipitated her into the arms of a young man who stood upon the steps preparing to knock.
"Hortie Fuller," cried Sylvia breathlessly. "Hortie! Where on earth did you come from?"
Her arms closed about his neck and he had kissed her twice before she swiftly withdrew, rearranging her curls and saying coldly:
"I cannot imagine what brought you here, Horatio."
[Chapter XX]
"I can't imagine," repeated Sylvia, still very rosy and flustered, but with her most magnificent air, "what brought you to Wilton—I really cannot."