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"I'll sing 'Mary of Argyle' first, and then a new little song, but it won't sound very well without any accompaniment," she said simply, and then, folding her hands before her and tilting her head like a bird, she began to sing, softly at first and then louder till her voice soared and rang echoing through the bare, empty rooms that flanked the lunch rooms. "So it was you whom he went to see on business to-night?" Patricia's stand, with its heavy curved iron head-piece and some lengths of copper and lead wire, was waiting for her in the clay room, and together they wheeled it into the modeling room, where the gloomy Miss Green scanned them with kind but somber eyes, plainly regarding their entrance as an interruption..
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"Voodoo! Voodoo!" she cried, hoarsely. "He was awfully nice," said Patricia enthusiastically. "Architects are so much better scrubbed than art students. He has lovely hair, too. He's tremendously fond of Miriam Halden, did you notice?" "I can, however," said Jen, grimly. "Oh, it is just as I thought." After the man had gone, Patricia, who had flushed, suddenly giggled. "Did you see him looking at us, Frad?" she asked, in an undertone. "He thought he'd caught us holding hands, like regular grown-up spoons!".
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