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"Is that you, Edith?" he asked, and at the affirmative reply, "this is Jimmy
Torrance. I'm feeling terribly lonesome. I was wondering if I couldn't drag you out
to listen to my troubles?"
"
Surest thing you know," cried the girl. "Where are you?" He told her. "Take a
Clark Street car," she told him, "and I'll be at the corner of North Avenue by the
time you get there."
As the girl hung up the receiver and turned from the phone a slightly quizzical
expression reflected some thought that was in her mind. "I wonder," she said as
she returned to her room, "if he is going to be like the rest?"
She seated herself before her mirror and critically examined her reflection in the
glass. She knew she was good-looking. No need of a mirror to tell her that. Her
youth and her good looks had been her stock in trade, and yet this evening she
appraised her features most critically, and as with light fingers she touched her
hair, now in one place and now in another, she found herself humming a gay
little tune and she realized that she was very happy.
When Jimmy Torrance alighted from the Clark Street car he found Edith waiting
for him.
"It was mighty good of you," he said. "I don't know when I have had such a fit of
blues, but I feel better already."
"
What is the matter?" she asked.
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