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There was an indeterminate moment of silence broken by the slim-skirted silhouette. "Where you goin'?" Straightening, Miss Schump could hear more. "No place. Where you goin'?" "I'm cold." "Buy you a drink?" In the shaft of arc-light Miss Schump could see the little face framed in the wan curls lift and crinkle the nose to smile. "Come on."
Her figure, as she leaned against the chair's high back, was slender and girlish, childish, almost, in its low-necked, short-waisted, slim-skirted, "Empire" dress, of some filmy stuff, the pale yellow of a Marshal Niel rose. Her face was a pure oval with delicate, regular features.
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