“It's a quiet and retired place, where only the nicest kind of people go,” she added. “Many working-girls and girls in stores get their dinners there. We'll meet some of them, no doubt; and if any that I know should happen in, we might hear of a good place. Just the thing, isn't it? I'm right glad I met you.”
They had gone halfway down the square, when Pinky stopped before the shop of a confectioner. In the window was a display of cakes, pies and candies, and a sign with the words, “LADIES' RESTAURANT.”
“This is the place,” she said, and opening the door, passed in, the young stranger following.
A sign of caution, unseen by Flora, was made to a girl who stood behind the counter. Then Pinky turned, saying,
“How will you have your oysters? stewed, fried, broiled or roasted?”
“I'm not particular—any way,” replied Flora.
“I like them fried. Will you have them the same way?”
Flora nodded assent.
“Let them be fried, then. Come, we'll go up stairs. Anybody there?”
“Two or three only.”