“Why, yes, I—”
“Yes!”
“I should think so,” he finished.
“Oh!… I do get so awfully tired of the greasy stuff Ma and Goaty dish up. They think a big stew that tastes like dish-water is a dinner, and if they do have anything I like they keep on having the same thing every day till I throw it in the sink. I wish I could go to a restaurant once in a while for a change, but of course—I dunno’s it would be proper for a lady to go alone even there. What do you think? Oh dear!” She sat brooding sadly.
He had an inspiration. Perhaps Miss Theresa could be persuaded to go out to dinner with him some time. He begged:
“Gee, I wish you’d let me take you up there some evening, Miss Zapp.”
“Now, didn’t I tell you to call me ‘Miss Theresa’? Well, I suppose you just don’t want to be friends with me. Nobody does.” She brooded again.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Honest I didn’t. I’ve always thought you’d think I was fresh if I called you ‘Miss Theresa,’ and so I—”
“Why, I guess I could go up to the Armenian with you, perhaps. When would you like to go? You know I’ve always got lots of dates but I—um—let’s see, I think I could go to-morrow evening.”
“Let’s do it! Shall I call for you, Miss—uh—Theresa?”