The next morning I told him, and that afternoon I returned
to Chicago.
"I have thought a whole lot more of my job since then."
"But why couldn't you love him?" asked Carol impatiently. "It seems
unreasonable, Connie. He is nice enough for anybody, and you were just
ripe and ready for it."
Connie shrugged her shoulders. "Why didn't you love somebody else
besides David?" she asked, and laughed at the quick resentment that
flashed to Carol's eyes.
"Well," concluded Connie, "God certainly wanted a few old maids to
leaven the earth, and I think I have the making for a good leavener.
So I write stories, and let other women wash the little Julias' faces,"
she added, laughing, as Julia, unrecognizably dirty, entered with a
soup can full of medicine she had painstakingly concocted to make her
daddy well.
CHAPTER XX
LITERARY MATERIAL
Connie wanted to see something out of the ordinary. What was the use
of coming to the wild and woolly if one never saw anything wilder than
a movie of New York society life, or woollier than miles of properly
garbed motorists driving under the guidance of blue-coated policemen as
safely and sanely as could be done in Chicago.
It was Julia who came to the rescue.
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