of poundage to quiver, like a gelatin dessert, when agitated.
"Jello who?" inquired Ellen.
"Metten."
"Sam Metten?" asked Ellen and laughed, the two syllables set him off so perfectly. Sam Metten was the junior partner of Metten Brothers, who were customers of the Rountrees.
"Uhuh," said Di easily. "You ought've been there, representing Rountree."
"Where?"
"On Jello's lap; there was lots of room. He liked me."
"Who?"
"Jello; hasn't he shown it? Art Slengel threw the party. It was perfectly proper, Ellen. I was hardly alone with Jello even when I was on his lap. Mrs. Jello's south; so he had us up to his apartment toward the finish. That's where he located Leo for me. I certainly went big with Jello last night," observed Di with unaffected pride, and she curled more contentedly in bed.
"Not getting up?" persisted Ellen.
"Me?" asked Di, satisfied. "Why should I? Look in Leo's pocket—left."
Ellen explored and abstracted a thin, beautifully made cigarette case of gold banded with platinum in which tiny diamonds and sapphires were set.
"How do you like it?" demanded Di.
"Like?" asked Ellen.
"I mean, would you keep it? Of course, the 'nitials ain't—aren't—mine; but Jello gave it to me before he was
