don’t like girls in the daytime,” he said shortly, and then, thinking this a bit abrupt, he added: “But I like you.” He cleared his throat. “I like you first and second and third.” Myra’s eyes became dreamy. What a story this would make to tell Marylyn! Here on the couch with this wonderful-looking boy—the little fire—the sense that they were alone in the great building— Myra capitulated. The atmosphere was too appropriate. “I like you the first twenty-five,” she confessed, her voice trembling, “and Froggy Parker twenty-sixth.” Froggy had fallen twenty-five places in one hour. As yet he had
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