Page:Dangerous Business (1927).pdf/59

 "I have arranged more," replied his father, and switched on the piano.

Ellen had his tickets, but she had not left them at the office. She had kept them in her handbag. How could she give them to him to send him to marry Lida Haige?

She had returned to Di, who was in negligée, never having stirred from the room during the day. Di possessed the ability, incomprehensible to Ellen, to idle and loiter hours on end at small bodily ministrations. She liked to bathe leisurely and lie on the bed when the room was hot, day dreaming and dozing or telephoning or munching marzipan and turning the pages of picture papers. She could employ hours with complexion creams and over her hands; she stained and polished not only her finger nails but toe nails, as well.

Marzipan, in a red lacquer box with gold dragons, reposed beside the bed.

"Art Slengel," said Di, carelessly, indicating its source. "He's phoned me, too. He's bringing Jello around at seven."

"Here?" asked Ellen.

"Silly," laughed Di. "He's picking me up. We're going out."

"Where?"

"Where I certainly hope and pray dinner'll be ready," replied Di. "We'll have cocktails in the car. Art has the cutest cubby for his shaker. . . . I don't know where we're going, Ellen, and I don't care long as dinner'll be