"Count!" she insisted authoritatively.
They started like a flash, the shadows dancing on the path. Elena gained. Victor grew angry, and came after them; then Laverne gave a sudden swift swirl and turned on her antagonist.
Lena stopped with a laugh. She was not angry.
"How you can run!" she exclaimed. "I wish you lived here. We would have races twenty times a day. And—can you climb trees?"
"Oh, yes."
"And swim?"
"No," admitted Laverne frankly.
"Then you can't do everything that I can."
"And she can do something you cannot. She can read French and Spanish, while you really can't read English; she can do sums and write letters, and—and sew," he was guessing at accomplishments now.
"There are the women to sew."