“Fell in.”
“I did not!” cried Sarah. “I was pushed.”
“‘Did She Fall, or Was She Pushed?’” giggled Madge. “Sounds like a moving picture title.”
“You can laugh,” scoffed Sarah. “I wonder what you’d have done?”
“Got just as wet as you did, most likely,” said Ruth, calming the troubled waters. “Do go on, Sarah. So you really saw somebody?”
“And felt somebody. When I climbed up to get a footing beside the sitting figure, so that the girls would not see me, somebody shoved me—with both hands—right into the fountain.”
“That’s when you squalled?” asked Madge.
“Yes, indeed! And I rolled out of the fountain just as the—the person who pushed me, tumbled down off the pedestal and ran.”
“For pity’s sake!” ejaculated Ruth. “Do tell us who it was, Sarah.”
“Don’t you think I would if I could?” responded Sarah, trying to wring the water out of her narrow skirt.