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"My missy tell me you wish to hear my Obi," she said, abruptly, fixing her eyes on the face of the visitor. "Why you wish? You laugh at Obi." Patricia drummed on the railing. "She was well enough," she admitted grudgingly. "But after I had modeled those figures and tried to get something appropriate for each one—and it was hard to get the candy into the inside of them, too, without spoiling it—they go and accept them as though they were a cup of afternoon tea. I thought they'd show more spirit. Don't talk to me about artists being gay and Bohemian after this." "All right," acquiesced Patricia, meekly. "I didn't mean to be silly. I'm a lot fonder of her than you are, and I was only thinking what fun it would be for her, don't you see?".
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The girls looked at one another in shamed silence. The actual discovery of the deception was so much more disconcerting than they had foreseen. They seemed to visualize Doris Leighton as she tore those guilty fragments and hid them in the rubbish, and the sight sickened them. "What in the world—" she began in alarm, but Elinor silenced her questioning with a weak wave of one tired hand. "I begs!" said Battersea, candidly. "And when I can't get nuffin I steals." Patricia, with her mind wholly on her own absorbing business, gave scant attention..
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