They were upon us, wheeling the tray laden with breakfast; Martt,
flushed, laughing. "Oh, hello, Frank--they didn't switch you wrong, did
they? Frannie broke the heater coils--if the breakfast gets cold, don't
blame me."
And Frannie, also flushed and laughing and a trifle rueful over the
mishap. Dressed in a blue blouse and widely flaring, knee-length
trousers, with her golden hair tossing on her shoulders. The picture of
a little housewife, of early morning informality. I thought I had never
seen her so beautiful.