Hello, 'Dora. Afternoon, Mary. He had a sheepish air.
Where've you been? Adora demanded sternly.
Just down to the pool-parlour, playin' with Irwin.
Well, you've been gone a long time, Adora whined. I looked for you when I went out.
I just been down to the pool-parlour, Al repeated dully.
Well, go on upstairs. I'm talking to Mary now.
With silent alacrity the boy obeyed her.
As he disappeared at the turn of the stairs, Adora burst into tears.
My life's nothing but dust and ashes, she sobbed. They all treat me like that, like dirt. They go and they come and they never think of me, and when a young, pretty flapper comes along . . . I don't deserve it, she cried. I try to get even by treating them like dirt, but it don't work. They listen to me shout, but they don't pay no attention.
They? Mary queried.
Well, he, Adora stammered. I mean Al. No, I don't! No, I don't! she cried. He'll never, leave me! He's different! Al loves me!
