can pull mighty well for a mile, mad; but you can't stay mad—or I can't—for twenty minutes. You get sort of let down in your feelings after the first spurt and you're no good. You see, I was rowing four miles that afternoon."
Ellen left the office, looking back as she closed the door upon the boy she loved; for she knew that, from that moment, she loved Jay Rountree.
It was time, she realized, for Di to be up; so she drew away Di's silken comforter and shook, gently, Di's soft, smooth shoulder. Di was healthily warm and slightly moist.
"Hmhm," sighed Di, contentedly.
"Nearly eight, Di."
"What's eight in my life?" inquired Di, grandly, and Ellen hesitated about completing the wakening of her. A few weeks past, when Di was still employed in the Rountree offices, Ellen would have had no doubt, but Di's duties, since she had been on the payroll of the Slengels, had developed variety as to hours, to say the very least.
"There's a blizzard this morning," announced Ellen. "If you're going to the office, you've got to start early."
"B-r-r-r," shivered Di, and sat up, blinking for her bearings. "Don't I know Mr. Blizzard? He sure whizzled me last night. B-r-r-r. I'd simply congealed on the street if Jello hadn't loaned me Leo. Isn't he sweet?"
Leo, obviously, was the leopard coat; Jello, by the magic of Di's nomenclature, emerged from the ranks of unknown persons likely to donate a Leo, as a male person
