Five minutes later five headless ladies in perfectly draped wraps were
showing off their finery to the best advantage, and their tiring maid
was standing as still as they, an open letter in her hand.
"What's the matter?" asked a pretty, snub-nosed girl who laughed
oftener than Win in these days. "You look as if you'd lost your last
friend."
"I'm afraid--I have," Winifred replied in a strange, withdrawn voice
which made Daisy Thompson's eyes widen.
"Say! I'm real sorry! I hope it ain't your beau."
Win did not answer, because she did not hear. Sadie! Sadie! The dear
little old sardine!
"Good-bye, deerie," she read again. "I coodn't of said this to yure
fase. I only noo for shure yesterdy. Its cunsumsion and they won't
have me back for fere of my giving it to others. I gess thats right
tho its hard luck on me. It aint that I care much about living. I
dont, becawse theres sum one I love who loves another girl. Shes a lot
better than me and werthy of him so thats all right too but it herts
and Id be kind of glad to go out. Dont you be afrade of me doing
anything silly in the tabloyde line tho. I wont. Im no coward. But I
got to leeve this house for the same reeson as the Hands.
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