Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 11, 2025
Mrs. Fike glared at her and retired. Mrs. Lawrence grinned, stretched herself on the couch, mysteriously produced a cigarette, and asked, "Smoke?" "No, thanks." "Sit down, child, and be comfy. Oh, would you mind opening that window? Not supposed to smoke.... Poor Ma Fike I just can't help deviling her. Please don't think I'm usually as nasty as I am with her.
Una said, cheerfully, to Mrs. Fike, who looked at her suspiciously, but granted: "Well, we'll look up your references. Meantime, if you like or don't like, I suppose you might talk to a Mrs. Esther Lawrence, who wants a room-mate." "Oh, I don't think I'd like a room-mate."
When spring came they had walking parties in Central Park, in Van Cortlandt Park, on the Palisades, across Staten Island, and picnicked by themselves or with neat, trim-minded, polite men clerks from the various offices and stores where the girls worked. They had a perpetual joy in annoying Mrs. Fike by parties on fire-escapes, by lobster Newburgh suppers at midnight.
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!"
You see, you don't do it well. We admit East Side Jews here and they are so much quicker and wittier than you country girls from Pennsylvania and Oklahoma, and Heaven knows where, that you might just as well give up and try to be ladies instead of humorists. Come, we will take a look at the Home." By now Una was resolved not to let Mrs. Fike drive her away.
Harriet Fike of the Home Club, of dreams and work and the fight for suffrage. Una's marriage slipped away she was ardent and unstained again. Mamie's nod was worth months of Mr. Schwirtz's profuse masculine boasts. Within ten days, Mamie's friend, Mr. Fein, of Truax & Fein, the real-estate people, sent for Una and introduced her to Mr. Daniel T. Truax.
Lawrence all about Troy Wilkins and her mother and and perhaps even about Walter Babson. But she merely treasured up the thought that she could do that some day, and politely asked: "What about Mrs. Fike? Is she as bad as she seems?" "Why, that's the best little skeleton of contention around here. There's three factions. Some girls say she's just plain devil mean as a floor-walker.
"You kept us waiting so long," complained Mrs. Fike. Mrs. Lawrence stared at her as though she were an impudent servant. She revolved on Una, and with a self-confident kindliness in her voice, inquired, "What's your name, child?" "Una Golden." "We'll talk this over.... Thank you, Mrs. Fike." "Well, now," Mrs. Fike endeavored, "be sure you both are satisfied " "Don't you worry! We will, all right!"
Una followed abjectly, and the matron seemed well pleased with her reformation of this wayward young woman. Her voice was curiously anemic, however, as she rapped on a bedroom door and called, "Oh, Mrs. Lawrence!" A husky, capable voice within, "Yeah, what is 't?" "It's Mrs. Fike, deary. I think I have a room-mate for you." "Well, you wait 'll I get something on, will you!" Mrs. Fike waited.
She laughed more deeply, and she felt the enormous rhythm of the city, not as a menacing roar, but as a hymn of triumph. She could never be intimate with Mamie Magen as she was with the frankly disillusioned Mrs. Lawrence; she never knew whether Miss Magen really liked her or not; her smile, which transfigured her sallow face, was equally bright for Una, for Mrs. Fike, and for beggars.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking