"Pooh, I shan't mind how criss-cross he is," declared Patricia valiantly. "I'm only the rankest greenhorn, anyway. He can't expect me to be a Rodin.",
"What does all this mean?" asked Meg, quite surprised at Jen's excitement.,
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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