"Miss Marie Louise Fielding."
"Oh! What's she done?"
"Nothing."
"Look, Joe! All these little hearts out, and the ace under where I can't get it! I believe I'd have gone out, only for that. Do you suppose she's a daughter of those Fielders Charlotte knows?"
"I hardly think so."
"Lit-tul gray home in—the—west! Well, no rest for the weary. I've got to sew some new rosettes on my slippers. We might as well have a little music, though. It really is wonderful when you stop to think, here we can have Caruso singing right in this room. I mean it almost seems like magic, doesn't it?"
She squatted on the floor, sliding records in and out of the cabinet Joe had made and she had labeled—Vocal, Instrumental, Dance, Red Seal. Not that any of them had been kept in their proper pigeonholes after the first week.
"'Whispering Hope'—'Alexander's Rag Time Band'—Tarra terump! Tarra terump! There's an awful crack in 'Sweet Genevieve'"
She put on "Good-by," and settled to her sewing.
"Good-by forever! Good-by forever! Where are my scissors?"
"Listen and learn, it seems to say,
All the to-morrows shall be as to-day,
All the to-morrows"
