antly, "But I am. Us cabaret girls never get any credit. But that's how I fool 'em—lead 'em on—and well, I can take care of myself when the pinch comes, all right."
"You sing in cabarets?"
"Yes, and dance a little all the latest steps. You ought to see my newest—it's a regular riot—the Orangoutang Chill." She coolly measured the sweet-faced girl before her. "But no, you wouldn't like it. Hearts an' Flowers for yours, dearie. And you're right, it's prettier even if there isn't so much pep. The other's just some of that Broadway bunk the bald-heads and the wise guys from Oshkosh eat up."
The harsh voice softened and grew confidential.
"You didn't fall for Phil, did you?"
"No—I was sorry to treat him so. But I had to. Ben was alone on the island—and now I'm engaged to some one else."
Carlotta stretched out her strong, well-shaped hand impulsively.
"Put it there—girlie—congratulations. It's the sailor guy isn't it?"
"Well, it's Mr. Boltwood. He was wrecked here, you know, and we came after him."
"Regular fairy tale, bottle and all, isn't it?—But it's fine stuff—you'll be happy all right, back in that burg—what d'you call it? Pepper 'n' Salt? An' a nice little cottage all covered with roses—an' lots o' babies an'—but never mind, dearie, you're ongenoo, all right. But I like you even if you aren't my style."
She patted Sally's hand, who forthwith was sure of her
