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"Well, why not you and Alfred come along and make it a family party, if that is what suits Bill, the boss?" "That is beyond my powers." Griffin grinned good-naturedly. "Keep your righteous wrath for the right fellow, young 'un. When you've been in the night life as many years as I have, you'll know that we don't choose a leader—she simply elects herself by taking the head of the procession. We never know who's who after we rig up. That's part of the game. So, you see, it may have been the charming Doris, or Howes here, or my unworthy self, that put those obnoxious questions to your sister—no one knows for sure, and the mean cuss won't tell.".
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"Mother's handkerchief, Dido," explained Isabella, interrupting. "The one you bound round my head." "Isn't it wonderful how Miss Jinny seems to fit in?" said Patricia, brushing the shining ripples till they fairly radiated. "I was so afraid that she might feel strange among such different sort of people, but she didn't care a bit. She's going to be awfully popular, if she keeps on. That nice old Mr. Spicer talked to her a lot at dessert, and he's awfully exclusive, you know." "What's it to be?" asked Elinor, releasing her and beginning to braid her dark hair. "Granted; but you forget that Isabella was in the room on that night. She might have dropped the handkerchief.".
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