Must you go?"
"Got to. But if you'll promise you won't laugh, I'll make a
date for this evening that'll give you a new sensation anyway.
There's going to be a strawberry social on the lawn of the
parsonage of our church. I've got a booth. You shed that kimono,
and put on a thin dress and those curls and some powder, and I'll
introduce you as my friend, Miss Evans. You don't look Evans, but
this is a Methodist church strawberry festival, and if I was to
tell them that you are leading lady of the `Second Wife' company
they'd excommunicate my booth."
"A strawberry social!" gasped the leading lady. "Do they
still have them?" She did not laugh. "Why, I used to go to
strawberry festivals when I was a little girl in----"
"Careful! You'll be giving away your age, and, anyway, you
don't look it. Fashions in strawberry socials ain't changed much.
Better bathe your eyes in eau de cologne or whatever it is they're
always dabbing on 'em in books. See you at eight."
At eight o'clock Pearlie's thump-thump sounded again, and the
leading lady sprang to the door as before. Pearlie stared. This
was no tear-stained, heat-bedraggled creature in an unbecoming
red-striped kimono. It was a remarkably pretty woman in a white
lingerie gown over a pink slip. The leading lady knew a thing or
two about the gentle art of making-up!
"That just goes to show," remarked Pearlie, "that you must
never judge a woman in a kimono or a bathing suit.
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