"The devil-stick!" gasped Jen, pointing a shaking finger at the wall. "The devil-stick!",
"Pooh," said Patricia, turning from her own reflection with a gay laugh. "You don't need to try. I do worship beauty, and I always shall. I like to laugh and sing and be happy. I like blue skies because God made them that way. And I don't think a pink rose is wickeder for being pink than if it were grubby gray. I think being happy is the serious business of life—when you take other people in with you—and I reckon God thinks so too.",
"Ah," cried Jen, "you admit your guilt?".
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