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Another red-haired boy followed him through the door.
“When you’re Prince Robert, you can do anything!” the nasty woman told her son. “Just sit on your throne all day, eat candy, and boss people around.”
The man in the white coat came out several more times.
“Seven sixty-nine.”
“Seven seventy.”
“Seven seventy-one.”
Each time another red-haired boy followed him through the door.
Marvin was almost to the front of the line.
The woman behind the desk was wearing big gold earrings. As Marvin got closer he noticed that one earring was shaped like a dog. The other was a cat.
“Next,” said the lady with the earrings.
The nasty woman and Arnold stepped to the front of the line.
“Your name?” muttered the earring lady. She seemed tired and bored.
“Arnold Miller,” answered the nasty woman.
“Eight eleven,” said the earring lady. She handed Arnold a slip of paper. “Next.”
“Your name?”
“Marvin Redpost.”
The earring lady looked up, and her face turned bright. “Oh, hi, Marvin!”
Marvin looked at her. “Hi,” he said, unsure.
“I’m Jennifer,” said the earring lady.
“Oh, hi!” said Marvin. “I mean—I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Jennifer, Duchess of Bathwater.” He bowed.
Jennifer laughed.
It was that same musical laugh he heard over the telephone.
“I’m not really a duchess,” she said. “I just made that up. This is a part-time job.”
“Oh,” said Marvin.
“I wouldn?
?t want to be a duchess anyway,” said Jennifer. “It sounds so stuffy and boring. All that—” She stopped, then said, “I guess you want to be a prince, and that’s okay. But it’s not for me.”
She wrinkled her nose.
Marvin shrugged. “I like your earrings,” he said.
Jennifer laughed. “Thank you, Marvin. Well, good luck.”
She gave him number 812.
