Page:To-morrow Morning (1927).pdf/214

 "Veal!"

"String beans"

"Soft custard"

"And paper-weight peaches of beautiful green marble. Aren't you dressed?"

"Practically. I have on my chemise and my earrings. Oh, Joe, wasn't it a heavenly walk?"

"Swell. Do you want this mass of dead vegetation you've put in the bowl, or can I wash my face?"

"Oh, are they all dead? They were such pretty wildflowers. Throw them away. I loved them when I picked them."

The personally conducted party from Manchester was having a musical evening in the lounge of the Villa Miramare when Joe and Evelyn came out for coffee after dinner. A contralto was singing about a weary heart as if her mouth were full of mashed potato. "Evelyn, you mustn't laugh," Joe whispered, severely. Then there was a sea song from a small elderly man in alpaca.

"I ought to write to mother to-night."

But he sat where he was, sleepy from the long walk, smiling at Evelyn through cigarette smoke, too con= tented to move.

"Joe, did you ever see such dancing?"

The couples hopped about, continually talking in their difficult ugly voices. "Eough, I sye!" "Eough, fahncy!" "Eough, I sye, Gwen, down't stop ply-ing—I do call thet jolly unkahnd!" The young ladies