t chow up to the front trenches in; have 'em filled by Martha at home, and delivered by Marion to her customers.
"It might work," says I. "It would need some capital, though. She'd have to invest in a lot of containers, and she'd need a motor truck."
"I will buy those," says Vee. "I'm going in with her."
"Oh, come!" says I. "You'd look nice, wouldn't you!"
"You mean that people would talk?" comes back Vee. "What do I care? It's quite as patriotic and quite as necessary as Red Cross work, or anything else. It would be scientific food conservation, man-power saving, all that sort of thing. And think what a wonderful thing it would be for the neighborhood."
"Maybe Marion wouldn't see it that way," I suggests. "Drivin' a dinner truck around might not appeal to her. You got to remember she's more or less of an old maid. She might have notions."
"Trust her," says Vee. "But I mean to have my plan all worked out before I tell her a word. When you go to town tomorrow, Torchy,
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