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Fike remarked, with a half-smile. Una smiled back. As they went through the bedroom floors, with Mrs. Fike stalking ahead, a graceful girl in lace cap and negligée came bouncing out of a door between them, drew herself up and saluted Mrs. Fike's back, winked at Una amicably, and for five steps imitated Mrs. Fike's aggressive stride. "Yes, I would be glad to come here!"
Lawrence whispered she was one of the chief operators of the telephone company, and, next to the thoughtful and suffering Mamie Magen, the most capable woman she knew. "How do you like the Tempest and Protest, Miss Golden?" the lively Cassavant said, airily. "I don't " "Why! The Temperance and Protection Home." "Well, I like Mrs. Fike's shoes. I should think they'd be fine to throw at cats."
Name nearest relatives? Nearest friends? Present occupation?" Even as she answered this last simple question and Mrs. Fike's suspicious query about her salary, Una felt as though she were perjuring herself, as though there were no such place as Troy Wilkins's office and Mrs.
I'm going to take a plate of bean soup and fit it over Ma Fike's head upside down." "Oh, give Ma Fike a rest!" Una was uneasy. She wasn't sure whether this repartee was friendly good spirits or a nagging feud. Like all the ungrateful human race, she considered whether she ought to have identified herself with the noisy Esther Lawrence on entering the Home.
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