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"Don't mind the kid, Miss Pat dear," he said, with his most winning smile. "She doesn't know any better yet. Your religion is the sort we've got to grow into, and, even then, some of us aren't ever quite big enough to realize it." "To see Dr. Etwald, I suppose?" "Mrs. Dallas," said David, faintly. "It was Mrs. Dallas.".
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Conrad
Patricia flung herself on her sister, overwhelming her in a flurry of pink kimono and white arms. "Tell me!" she cried. "Tell me this minute, you aggravating thing! You're getting to be a regular miser of your news—you won't give up till it's dragged out of you. Speak, or I'll have your life!" "It iss nothing," said Naskowski stolidly as he went back to the clay room, but Patricia could see that he was pleased at the ardor of her gratitude. They were all rather serious for a silent moment, and then Patricia spoke. Her clear voice was rather low and timid, but her eyes were shining. "Etwald!" repeated Lady Meg, thoughtfully. "Is he not the doctor of whom you have made so great a friend?".
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