THE DRUGSTORE WAS ‘THE Place.’ By the time Vicki got downstairs and into the drugstore, she had collected quite a little crowd at her heels: Jean, of course; Charmion, who needed sympathy and understanding; Celia tagging along and prattling; and Tessa. They settled themselves at a table for six, and started chattering all at the same time.
Jean shook her cropped head at Vicki. “The baby of the class. And here I’ve been treating you like an equal, you—you infant! Impostor!”
Charmion teased, “Eat a big lunch, Vicki, and maybe you’ll grow.”
Tessa and Celia were already debating whether a sarsaparilla malted would taste good or would send them to the infirmary.
At the counter, all by herself, sat Dot Crowley. Vicki felt sorry for her, and at the same time exasperated with such stiff-necked
