Melissa took the letter and opened it. “Well, well. A personal missive from the president’s office, if you please. And signed by T. Ballard Bestwyck in person or a rubber stamp… Oh! Ooooooh!”
“What?” asked Beulah Porter Cowys.
“Gluck-gluck-gluck,” Melissa said in frustrated incoherence. “Gluck! It says I have to exchange apartments in Pericles Pavilion with that—that—that—with Handsome Lover Boy because the one I’m in is a double and his is a single and he needs more room! Just after I’ve gotten mine decorated to suit me! I won’t do it! I—will—not—do—it!”
“Oh, yes, you will,” said Beulah Porter Cowys.
“Why?” Melissa demanded defiantly.
“Because T. Ballard Bestwyck told you to, and T. Ballard Bestwyck sits at God’s right hand.”
“Oh, damn!” said Melissa. “Oh, double damn-damn-damn!”
T
