"Honest, the way them fellows eye us gives me a pain. Ain't they fresh!" Elsie whispered to Minnie.
Minnie knew the men were looking only at her, but she said: "It's that new hat o' yours, Elsie. It gives you a swell air. Really, when I first seen it I was terrible struck with it. It sets off your face. Red's such a good color. Me with my red hair can never wear it."
Elsie's moist hands trembled. "Do you think it's too early for velvet, Min? I suppose I should o' waited, but I couldn't when I passed that Tenth Avenue shop and seen it in the window."
"Did you get it at The Bon Ton?" Minnie asked, looking past the hat, slyly, at a tall gangling boy leaning against the lamp post.
"Say, what do you think I am, a millionaire? No, I got it at The Palace Bazaar."
"Never would o'guessed it." Minnie's eyes met those of a chauffeur driving slowly past in a rattling taxi, and a jerk of her head declined his motion that she ride up the street with him. "What'd you pay for it, Els? It's got a lot o' style."
"One eighty-five."
"Whew! You don't care how you spend your dough, do you?" and Minnie smiled. Her eyes met those of a flashily dressed man. There was a momentary salute between them, he paused, then ambled around the corner as the two girls hurried on.
"Well, it's my only extravagance," came defensively from Elsie, "and it's worth it. Look close, Min, you couldn't get a remnant of velvet like that in our basement for under seventy-five cents. And the near-feather. . . ."
"I ain't criticizin' you. I like to see a girl spend money on
