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"One moment, Miss Dallas!" he said, quickly. "Does David know about the theft of the devil-stick? That is," he added more precisely, "does he know that your mother stole it?" "I'm a horrid pig to forget," she whispered contritely. "Don't be cross, Frad dear; you know how sorry I am." "I!" cried David, starting up with pale cheeks. "I defend you!".
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They all stood around on the sloppy floor of the clay room as she undid the moist wrappings of her half-finished head. As the cloths were laid aside, there was a disheartening silence. "Three pounds of candy for the modeling and composition class, four for the head and illustration class, and five for the life," was the prompt response. "We shall see," replied Jen, who was as obstinate as a mule on some points. "I am no fool." "Poor David!" echoed Etwald, with a sneer. "Foolish David, you might say, to die for the sake of a woman.".
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