shout.

"How do you do," says Miss Jerryl shyly.

Richard Caramel tries to move about as if his figure were better. He is
torn between his innate cordiality and the fact that he considers these
girls rather common--not at all the Farmover type.

Gloria has disappeared into the bedroom.

"Do sit down," beams Mrs. Gilbert, who is by now quite herself. "Take
off your things." Dick is afraid she will make some remark about the age
of his soul, but he forgets his qualms in completing a conscientious,
novelist's examination of the two young women.

Muriel Kane had originated in a rising family of East Orange. She was
short rather than small, and hovered audaciously between plumpness and
width. Her hair was black and elaborately arranged. This, in conjunction
with her handsome, rather bovine eyes, and her over-red lips, combined
to make her resemble Theda Bara, the prominent motion picture actress.
People told her constantly that she was a "vampire," and she believed
them. She suspected hopefully that they were afraid of her, and she did
her utmost under all circumstances to give the impression of danger. An
imaginative man could see the red flag that she constantly carried,
waving it wildly, beseechingly--and, alas, to little spectacular avail.
She was also tremendously timely: she knew the latest songs, all the
latest songs--when one of them was played on the phonograph she would
rise to her feet and rock her shoulders back and forth and snap her
fingers, and if there was no music she would accompany herself
by humming.