A plump woman, 618; blonde; in black. You felt that her flesh was expertly restrained in tight pink satin brassi�res and long-hipped corsets and many straps.

“I hate to trouble you, but did you get a package for Mrs. Hoyt? It’s from Field’s.”

It was five-thirty. Cora had her hat on. She did not ask the woman to come in. “I’ll see. I ordered some things from Field’s to-day, too. I haven’t opened them yet. Perhaps yours � I’ll look.”

The package with Mrs. Hoyt’s name on it was there. “Well, thanks so much. It’s some georgette cr�pe. I’m making myself one those new two-tone slip-over negligees. Field’s had a sale. Only one sixty-nine a yard.”