Page:Our Little Girl (1923).pdf/108

 “Are you doing anything tonight?”

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m afraid I can’t do anything.”

His behavior on his last visit had made it seem advisable not to encourage him—and yet, he was a valuable ally, professionally. If only he would be content to be a professional ally!

“Tomorrow night?”

“T’'ll be busy.”

“Wait till I see.”

“How about Thursday?”

A short silence. It was no use putting him off indefinitely.

“Yes, you can come up Thursday.”

Tommy seemed to be rather cleaned up on Thursday night. His clothes were beautifully pressed. He wore a stiff collar—something new in Dorothy’s experience. There were evidences that a barber had functioned within the hour.

Tommy had tickets for a motion-picture house. It was a remarkable picture this week, he said, although it wasn’t for hoi polloi—Tommy never said “the” hoi polloi —and well worth seeing. Dorothy was willing to go and delayed only so long over the traditional rite of “dressing” that they arrived at the theatre after half of the film had been exhibited. The large auditorium was empty. Hoi polloi evidently had found more entertaining screenings elsewhere.

The great merit of the picture doubtless prompted Tommy to discourse rapidly on matters in no way connected with the art of the cinema.

“I like to go out with you,” he confessed. “It’s different.”

Dorothy smiled and giggled a bit. It was genial but noncommittal. The response encouraged Tommy.