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Patricia nodded. "You'll be in better shape to begin on the library design next week," she said briskly. "I'm not going to start my study till I feel just like it. Doesn't pay to push yourself too hard. We've had a glorious week, with the concerts and theater and the museums and all, and I've learned more than I should have at the school. Just living teaches you lots, if you'll learn, and I don't believe in turning up my nose at things just because they aren't in a roster." "Tell her to make a hack at it anyway," urged Margaret Howes earnestly. "Originality is the thing that counts, and she's got as good a chance as any of us there." "To be queen of the black witches of Obi, no doubt. Faugh!".
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Conrad
"But why do you suspect Dido?" "Do you really want to go?" asked Patricia, beaming. "The modeling room's open, and you can always see the antique." On the way home Patricia told Elinor of the suspicions that had been whispered about Doris Leighton's part in the initiation, and, much to her satisfaction, Elinor was as indignant as she had been. The girl unmistakably caught the words, for she turned a brilliant, measuring, half-approving look on her while she slowly began to divest herself of the alluring green apron. She was so evidently used to admiration that her smooth cheek showed no change of color, though the panic red of swift confusion flamed on Patricia's bright face..
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