said to her before. Plunge in boy, plunge! The blacker the berry—he chuckled to himself.
Orchestra playing “Blue Skies,” as an especial favor to her. Alva telling her his name and giving her his card, and asking her to ’phone him some day. Alva close to her and being nice, his arms tightening about her. She would call him tomorrow. Ecstasy ended too soon. The music stopped. He thanked her for the dance and left her standing on the promenade by the side of the waiting slender stripling. She danced with him twice more, then let him take her home.
At ten the next morning Emma Lou called Alva. Braxton came to the telephone.
“Alva’s gone to work; who is it?” People should have more sense than to call that early in the morning. He never got up until noon. Emma Lou was being apologetic.
“Could you tell me what time he will be in?”
“’Bout six-thirty. Who shall I say called? This is his roommate.”
“Just . . . Oh . . . I’ll call him later. Thank you.”
Braxton swore. “Why in the hell does Alva give so many damn women his ’phone number?”
Six-thirty-five. His roommate had said about six-thirty. She called again. He came to the 'phone. She thought his voice was more harsh than usual.
