"He makes everybody else look so—so mussy, somehow," she reflected.
A very crowded street-car proved to be the next step in the journey towards Dr. Stone’s office. It was a pay-as-you-enter car, but Joan, having entered, found herself unable to pay at the same moment. She stood swaying to and fro, clutching Garth with one hand and struggling madly to unfasten her pocket-book with the other. Even when a pocket-book is open, it is a difficult feat to hold it and abstract a coin from its depths at the same time, with only one hand. Joan found this out; she also discovered that she had no smaller change than a two dollar bill. The conducter grew irate; the people who crowded the vestibule behind her were more so.
"Town is barbaric! Why in the world does any one choose to live in it?" muttered Joan, vowing mentally that they would return in a taxicab.
Garth sat on Joan’s lap in the car; there was no other place for him to sit. He was much interested in the shops and the crowds of people and motors outside the car; he did not seem to be hot at all. Perhaps one of the reasons why Joan felt so extremely warm was because she
