But there's no use talking about that--" And Florrie, who had been born a lady on her father's side, adjusted her pompadour under the high bandeau of her hat, and rose with a dashing air from the sofa.
"I'd love to see the babies, darling," she said; "I'm just crazy about babies." "They are out in the Park.

I'm so sorry.

Perhaps they are coming in now, I hear the door-bell." But it was George instead of the children; and he entered presently with a moody look, which vanished quickly before the brilliant vision of Florrie.
"I thought I heard you," he observed with the casual intimacy of an old playmate, "so I came in.

Have you got fixed yet?
What about the apartment?
You'd better let me help you hunt for it ?" "Oh, I'm not sure about the apartment.

I may take a house--a teeny weeny one, you know," said Florrie, as she bent softly toward him, scented and blooming.