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Updated: July 13, 2025
But it was eight o'clock and the great Madame d'Avala found herself alone in the prim guest room of the Misses Blair's School, with her bag and dressing case, to be sure, but with no one to help her into the complicated draperies of her gown. There was no bell.
Florette had swell clo'es. This'n's swell, too. My! ain't it great to see a classy gown again!" Madame d'Avala laughed and Freddy joined her. "Say, you seen the teachers at this school?" he asked. "You seen 'em?" Madame d'Avala nodded. "Nice ladies," said Freddy in an effort to be fair. "But no class you know what I mean. Way they slick their hair back, an' no paint or powder.
Margarita d'Avala bit her lips and paced the floor, looked out of the window, opened the door, but there was no one in sight. Well, no help for it. She must try to get into the gown alone. She stepped into it and became entangled in the lace; stepped out again, shook the dress angrily and pushed it on over her head, giving a little impatient scream as she rumpled her hair.
Brannigan, we have some arrangements to make about the concert to-night. Madame d'Avala is to sing in the school auditorium, a benefit performance," and she went out, followed by her sister and niece. "Where's Florette?" Freddy asked again, his voice trembling with eagerness. "I seen her in K.C., sonny." "How's the ac'?" "Fine! Fine! Great!" "No kiddin'?" "No kiddin'." "Florette all right?"
"Au revoir," said Madame d'Avala, and electrified the Misses Blair by adding, "See you after the show, kid." "I am very lonely, too," said Margarita d'Avala after the concert "lonely and sad." "You are?" Freddy cried in amazement. Then, practically, "What about?" "It's about a man," confessed the lady. "Aw, g'wan!" exclaimed Freddy incredulously.
Then she reached up and back, straining her arms to push the top snap of the corsage into place. But with the quiet glee of inanimate things the snap immediately snapped out again. Flushing, Madame d'Avala repeated her performance, and the snap repeated its. Madame d'Avala stamped both feet and gave a little gasp of rage. She attacked the belt with no better luck.
"For," said gentle Miss Nellie, drawing Madame d'Avala aside and lowering her voice "for we are very sorry for Freddy now. His mother " "Oh, yes, she has gone to England." "Why, no! She is dead!" "Oh, mio povero bambino! And how he adores her!" "Yes." "And what will he do then?" "He can stay on here. But I am afraid he doesn't like us," Miss Nellie sighed. "Has he no one else?"
"No that is, a stepfather. But his mother put him here to save him from the stepfather's abuse, and and all the coarsening influences of stage life, if you understand." "Ah, yes, I understand," said Madame d'Avala. "And yet I think I understand the little one, too. He and I we have the same nature. We cannot breathe in the too-high altitudes.
I jus' knew somebody I'd like was in here soon's I got that smell." "Oh, Freddy, I like you, too! But I've got to hurry now. Good-bye. And thanks so much, dear." She started out the door. "Oh, gee! I can't go to bed!" Freddy wailed. "Come along, then!" cried Madame d'Avala, impetuously seizing his hand. "I'll make them let you go to the concert. They must!"
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