A titter seemed to run just a scratch beneath the surface
of her.
The passing figure of a woman in a black cape and a bulge of bundle
elicited a burst of laughter which her hand clapped to her mouth
promptly subdued. Awaiting the passing of a street-car, she was again
prone to easy laughter.
"Oh, you!" she said, quirking an eye to the motorman, who quirked back.
Crossing the street, she came down rather splashily in a pool of water,
wetting and staining the light slippers.
"Aw!" she repeated, scolding and stamping down at them. "Aw! Aw! You!"
Across from the gloomy pile of old Jefferson Market, she stood, reading
up at an illuminated tower-clock, softly, her lips moving.
"Nine--ten--e-lev-hun--"
A dark figure slowed behind her elbow; she turned with a sense of that
nearness and peered up under the lowering brim of a soft-felt hat.
"Hoddado?"
"Hello!" she answered, slyly.
"Hello!"
She peered closer.
"Got a girl?"
"Nope."
"Blow suds?"
"Where?"
"Cora's."
He flung back his coat, revealing a star.
"You're under arrest," he said, laconically. "Solicitin'. Come on; no
fuss."
Her comprehension was unplumbed.
"O Lord!" she said, pressing inward at her waistline to abet laughter,
following him voluntarily enough, and her voice rising.
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