“You lost it?” I ask to know.
“I cannot dishcover my golden vain-box where it is!” she holla, making more looks inside. Eccitement. “O here is!” she exclam, bringing up one slight box resembling golden cake of soap. She open Hon. Suit-case, remove powder puff and make slight smudge to nose with that delicious feather. Then she put him back in box, close box, imprison him in bag, close bag and hand him to me.
“Give me suit-case,” she pronounce. I poke forth that valuable arcticle. She open him by brass clasp.
“Where are my hand-bag?” she require for frights.
“Here is!” I renig. She open him up to see if Hon. Vain Box are still comfortable, then close him, drop him in Hon. Suit-case, and thrust him backwards to me.
Pretty soonly we make changecar at Porterhouse Junction. We make step-up into red-headed street-car what await there.
“Carfare!” holla Hon. Conductor with police expression.
“Give transfers to this gentleman!” she require from me where I sat back.
“Hon. Conductor neglect to give us that paper!” I negotiate. Her eyes was full of vinegar.
“How dares you talk repartee after losing transfers?” she denote. So she give 10c extravagant cash to Hon. Conductor.