"Call me if you want anything more, Sis," said Jack to his sister, as
he started back to his own apartment. And then, as he was about to
close, Cora's door Jack looked fixedly at a place on the floor near
her bureau, and with a muttered exclamation hurried toward it.
"Oh! what is it?" his sister begged, alarmed at the look on his face.
"Another one--trying to hide," he murmured.
Off came his slipper again and there followed a resounding whack on
the floor.
"Got that one, too!" Jack announced, and then, as Coral made brave by
the declaration of the death, came closer, she uttered a cry.
"Jack Kimball!" she gasped, accusingly, "you've broken my best
barrette," and she picked up from the floor the shattered fragments
of a dark celluloid hair comb, which had fallen from the bureau.
"Barrette," murmured Jack, in dazed tones.
"Yes--a sort of side comb, only it goes in the back."
"Well, it looked just like a centipede trying to hide under the
bureau," Jack defended himself. "Is it much damaged?"
"Damaged? It's utterly ruined," sighed Cora. "Never mind, Jack, you
meant all right," and she smiled at her brother.
"Oh, dear! I don't believe I'm going to like it here, even if the
waters are such a heavenly blue."
"What was it--another?" demanded Belle.
"It was my barrette, my dear," laughed Cora.
"Come, young folks! You must quiet down," came the voice of Cora's
mother from the next room.
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