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"Who--who--told you?" stammered the young man, as pale as death. "Is your laurel wreath on good and tight, Judy?" asked Bruce with a twinkle. "I'm going to beg Elinor to have hers tied on with nice little blue ribbons. Miss Pat is on the rampage for fame, and it isn't safe to take chances." "Is dere poison in de hollow ob de needle?".
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Conrad
"What is the matter with you today, Ju?" she asked in an undertone, "I do wish you'd behave yourself. Bruce will be sorry he asked us if we're going to act like wild Indians." "That's the way I usually do," assented Doris evenly. "But I'm going out of town on Saturday, and I have to turn it in before I leave tomorrow night. I'll stay home and work on it in the morning, so I shan't see you perhaps before I go." "From behind?" Patricia, promising to give Doris' messages to Elinor and the rest, hurried off, leaving the drawing-room windows once more blank and impassive. She ran into the studio as Griffin was rising to go, with her umbrella, reclaimed from the stand, still dripping slow occasional drops unheeded on the polished floor..
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