“WHAT ARE YOU SO SERIOUS about?” Charmion demanded of Vicki that evening.
“Yes, stop brooding and tell your dear old pals,” Jean said.
The three girls were the only stewardesses in the apartment this cold autumn evening; Celia and Tessa and Dot were out on flights. Vicki’s little trio—the original nucleus of their crowd—sat in the living room, having supper. Mrs. Duff had set up the small table in the window, and as they ate they looked out on the fabulous lights of New York. All three of them had been flying and were tired now, and relaxing. Charmion’s long hair streamed over her shoulders, Jean wore pajamas, and Vicki had surrendered to stocking feet.
“Come on, Vicki, break down and tell us.”
“I caught a runaway girl on my plane.”
“Really! This afternoon?”
“That’s plenty serious. W
