“Tell me, Mouse dear, why do you like the people here? The peepul, I mean. They don’t seem so very remarkable. Enlighten poor Istra.”
“Well, they’re awful kind. I’ve always lived in a house where the folks didn’t hardly know each other at all, except Mrs. Zapp—she was the landlady—and I didn’t like her very much. But here Tom Poppins and Mrs. Arty and—the rest—they really like folks, and they make it just like a home…. Miss Croubel is a very nice girl. She works for Wanamacy’s—she has quite a big job there. She is assistant buyer in the—”
He stopped in horror. He had nearly said “in the lingery department.” He changed it to “in the clothing department,” and went on, doubtfully: “Mr. Duncan is a traveling-man. He’s away on a trip.”
“Which one do you play with? So Nelly likes to—well, make b’lieve—’magine?”
“How did you—”
“Oh, I watched her looking at you. I think she’s a terribly nice pink-face. And just now you’re comparing her and me.”
“Gee!” he said.
She was immensely pleased with herself. “Tell me, what do these people think about; at least, what do you talk about?”
“Say!”
“S-s-s-h! Not so loud, my dear.”