"You are all so good to me!" she said.
"You are exceedingly lovable," explained Phyllis matter-of-factly.
"In fact, Clarence remarked the last time I saw him that you had the
most unusual kind of charm he had ever seen. He said you were like a
sorceress brought up in a nunnery. While I think of it, Joy dear,
Clarence and Gail are two of the most confirmed head-hunters I know.
They ought to marry each other and keep it in the family, but they
won't. I'm not worried about anything Gail can do, but do please
keep your fingers crossed when Clarence drops carelessly in. And
when he starts discussing your souls turn the conversation to the
village water-supply or something as interesting."
Joy smiled a little wistfully.
"John doesn't seem to mind," she said. Then she laughed outright.
"Phyllis, I've seen every one of Clarence's tricks all my life. He's
the only type I'm accustomed to: it's the John and Allan type I
don't know."
"You certainly are a surprise to me," said Phyllis, busily folding a
flesh-colored Georgette waist, and laying it in a tray with
tissue-paper in its sleeves. "I don't seem to be able to teach you
much, which is a good thing. Now you'd better let me help you pack
up enough for a week, for Mrs. Hewitt is due fairly soon."
Joy declined to take any of Phyllis' much-needed time, and went off
to fill her suitcase. It was not until she had put in almost
everything she intended to take that she thought of the wishing ring
again.
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