Going! You'll love the Markovitchs' hotel, ma dearie,
right near the boardwalk, and the grandest glassed-in porch and--and
chairs, and--and nooks, and things. Ain't they, Vetsy?"
"Yes, you little Ruby, you," he said, regarding her with warm, insinuating
eyes, even crinkling an eyelid in a wink.
She did not return the glance, but caught her cheeks in the vise of her
hands as if to stem the too quick flush. "Now you--you quit!" she cried,
flashing her back upon him in quick pink confusion.
"She gets mad yet," he said, his shoulders rising and falling in silent
laughter.
"Don't!"
"Well," he said, clicking the door softly after him, "good night and sleep
tight."
"'Night, Vetsy."
Upon the click of that door Mrs. Kaufman leaned softly forward in her
chair, speaking through a scratch in her throat. "Ruby!"
With her flush still high, Miss Kaufman danced over toward her parent, then
as suddenly ebbed in spirit, the color going. "Why, mommy, what--what you
crying for, dearie? Why, there's nothing to cry for, dearie, that we're
going off on a toot to-morrow. Honest, dearie, like Vetsy says, you're all
nerves. I bet from the way Suss hollered at you to-day about her extra milk
you're upset yet.
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