XXVIIIMarilyn had not been in New York but a week before she met Opal. She was waiting to cross Fifth Avenue, and someone leaned out of a big limousine that paused for the congestion in traffic and cried:
“Why, if that isn't Miss Severn from Sabbath Valley. Get in please, I want to see you.”
And Lynn, much against her will, was persuaded to get in, more because she was holding up traffic than because the woman in the limousine insisted:
“I'll take you where you want to go,” she said in answer to Lynn's protests, and they rolled away up the great avenue with the moving throng.
“I'm dying to know what it is you're making Laurie Shafton do,” said Opal eagerly, “I never saw him so much interested in anything in my life. Or is it you he's interested in. Why, he can't talk of anything else,
