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"Zoe, I'm glad you wore this instead. Did your grandmother feel badly that you didn't wear the one she gave you?"
"I wasn't myself in it. No--room."
In the corridor, going out, Bruce stepped suddenly out of his office into their path.
Zoe's hand had shot out.
"h.e.l.lo, you!" she said.
He looked at her through a slow smile.
"Well, I'll be hanged! The youngster! Good Lord! What have they done!
Who elongated you? Where are the knee dresses and the corkscrews?"
She withdrew a highly haughty hand.
"You poor, misguided Rip Van Winkle. When did you return from the Catskills?"
"When did it happen?" he asked Lilly, trying to keep his eyes from crinkling.
It was the first time in this last brace of weeks that there had been more than the merest perfunctory word between them, and she tried to thaw her cold lips into a smile.
"You forget that you haven't seen her since last Christmas. Six inches more of skirt and a few hairpins did it."
"Well, I'll be hanged!" he kept reiterating. "Zoe grown up!"
"Is it true you are going to try for the aviation? Ida Blair says you are."
"Looks that way."
"You're too old."
"Well, then, I'll have to come down to earth. You and your mother have different ideas regarding my age. I'm rather dizzy about it this minute, myself. Either time is putting one over on me or you have caught up. By Jove! that's it! You've caught up! You're immense!"
She was suddenly, and to Lilly's amazement, a creature of flashes and quirks, of self and s.e.x consciousness.
"Don't like to be--immense!"
"Gorgeous, then."
"Better."
"Don't go. Let me look at you."
"Come with us. Dare you."
"Zoe!"
"Where?"
"I'm singing this afternoon for Auchinloss. My audition at the Opera House."
"The deuce you say!"
"I've a cab waiting," she said, challenging him with a flash of eyes to their corners.
"Wait," he said, darting into his office.
"Zoe, how dared you?"
"Lilly--he's thrilling! I want him along; I feel keyed up now. The way I want to feel! Edgy!"
Before her persistently cold lips would reply he rejoined them and presently they were all three in the cab.
His contemplation of Zoe became a stare.
"So the little Zoe grew up."
"I'm eighteen. You used to be old enough to be my father. Not any more.
Now you are old enough to be my--anything."
"Zoe!"
"Good Lord!" he said. "Fact."
Suddenly her nervousness came flowing back over her.
"Lilly, look at me every second while I'm singing, darling. You too,"
leaning toward him and placing cold fingers on each of their wrists.
"Delightful and easy task."
She made him a _moue_, prettily pouty.
"You'll be sorry, when I'm famous, that you didn't take me seriously."
"How can I take you at all when you've taken me off my feet?"
"You've never heard me sing, have you?"
"No."
"Wait."
"I palpitate."
"I'm going to be all alone now, you know," she said, looking at him with her brilliant eyes filling.