"And the hat," Theresa reminded her.
Lillian laughed pleasantly. "Yes, he bought the hat," she said.
Theresa sighed and nodded with the air of one whose worst suspicions have been confirmed. "Pretty soon he'll buy you a coat," she said, "and you'll think you're set for life. Don't be a damn fool, Lillian; stick to your job."
"Oh, I am."
"Yes, so far. But, listen to me, stick to it always."
"I could always get one as good as the one I got," Lillian pointed out. "That is, if anything should come up and I'd quit."
"Yes, you always could, but you wouldn't. A girl gets out of the habit of getting up early in the morning. Take my advice, I won't be here much longer to give it to you."
"Why not?"
"I'll be dead or in an insane asylum. You'll see."
"Don't talk like that."
"It's true. I won't last much longer."
"Banana oil."
"You'll see," Theresa repeated.
She walked to Louise's vanity table and meditatively daubed powder on her nose. There was a faint scent of a Colgate perfume haunting the room. Lillian looked around. She had always liked Louise's bedroom. Billy had painted the furniture buttercup yellow (number nine), and there were yellow voile curtains at the window. No rug, but what did anybody need a rug for?
"I'd like a room like this," Lillian said.
