Page:Angna Enters - Among the Daughters.djvu/265

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know!" Lucy replied mischievously, and sprayed herself generously with her favorite perfume. She looked sidelong at Vida and laughed. For an eighteen-year-old girl Vida was very inexperienced, even about clothes. That was because she was a nice sensible girl, interested in studying. It would be wonderful to know as much as Vida about books.

"I shock you, don't I? I just meant, what if I were in an accident and had to be taken to a hospital. Black pants would certainly look funny with pale grey and you can't wear a black slip under grey chiffon, even if it is double and accordion pleated, so don't always expect the worst of me."

"I'm just jealous," Vida said uncomfortably, determining to try and be as uninhibited as Lucy. A necessity for anyone who wanted to write.

"That's a hot one! Here I am jealous of you because you know so much. I'd like to be like you so I would know what to say to people, like you talked about Simone. I thought that very interesting. Nobody ever takes me seriously."

Vida laughed hollowly. "Oh beat it, before you break my heart! What time will you be home?"

"Six or seven. We'll go and see the Douglas Fairbanks picture. I like him, he has such narrow hips."


As it was such a sparkly day and only three thirty, Lucy chose to walk. It would give her time too to think of things to say to Simone who, after all, wasn't Vida to whom you could say anything. It was wonderful Vida being with her, like having a sister, a kind of second self to talk things out with. You couldn't do that with Mother because she was such a baby. She smiled and a blue pinstripe thought it was for him and she stopped smiling. The October air felt good way up into her head. She wrinkled her nostrils and her toes tingled to step it down the street. Funny, when she felt like this it was always a jazz step she wanted to do. Jazz made you want to dance all over, but tap dancing looked better for men because they had no breasts that bobbed, and narrow hips. New York was beautiful on Sunday afternoons, especially at Central Park and Fifth with the hansom cabs and Rolls Royces and people walking across to the Park. It was silly not to walk in the Park sometimes instead of lying around until time to go to a party. What an unbecoming muddy-brown suit and green hat with a red feather! Simone could wear an

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