re the great cowlike eyes, the
wonderful oval face, the marvellous little nose, the perfect lips and
chin. Miss Myrtle could don a forty-dollar gown, parade it before a
possible purchaser, and make it look like an imported model at one
hundred and twenty-five. When Miss Myrtle opened those exquisite lips
and spoke you got a shock that hurt. She laid one cool slim finger on
Ray's ruddy cheek.

"Sure enough!" she drawled nasally. "Whereja get it anyway, kid? You
must of been brought up on peaches 'n' cream and slept in a pink cloud
somewheres."

"Me!" laughed Ray, her deft fingers busy straightening a bow here, a
ruffle of lace there. "Me! The L-train runs so near my bed that if it
was ever to get a notion to take a short cut it would slice off my legs
to the knees."

"Live at home?" Miss Myrtle's grasshopper mind never dwelt long on one
subject.

"Well, sure," replied Ray. "Did you think I had a flat up on the Drive?"

"I live at home too," Miss Myrtle announced impressively. She was
leaning indolently against the table. Her eyes followed the deft, quick
movements of Ray's slender, capable hands. Miss Myrtle always leaned
when there was anything to lean on. Involuntarily she fell into melting
poses. One shoulder always drooped slightly, one toe always trailed a
bit like the picture on the cover of the fashion magazines, one hand and
arm always followed the line of her draperies while the other was raised
to hip or breast or head.

Ray's busy hands paused a moment. She looked up at the picturesque
Myrtle. "All the girls do, don't they?"

"Huh?" said Myrtle blankly.

"Live at home, I mean? The application blank says--"

"Say, you've got clever hands, ain't you?" put in Miss Myrtle
irrelevantly. She looked ruefully at her own short, stubby,
unintelligent hands, that so perfectly reflected her character in that
marvellous way hands have. "Mine are stupid-looking. I'll bet you'll get
on." She sagged to the other hip with a weary gracefulness. "I ain't
got no brains," she complained.

"Where do they live then?" persisted Ray.

"Who? Oh, I live at home"--again virtuously--"but I've got some heart if
I am dumb. My folks couldn't get along without what I bring home every
week. A lot of the girls have flats. But that don't last. Now Jevne--"

"Yes?" said Ray eagerly. Her plump face with its intelligent eyes was
all aglow.

Miss Myrtle lowered her voice discreetly. "Her own folks don't know
where she lives. They s