“It lives in a cage,” chimed in Patrick.
“And eats nuts,” finished Jennie in a squeaky voice of triumph.
Their little eager tormenting faces came just above the window sill: Mary felt inclined to box their ears.
Jackie, who was a polite boy, pretended not to hear. He knew quite well that Mary had brought him a present, and he more than suspected what it was, but this was a most improper way to refer to it.
“Shut up, will you,” he said, and just at that minute Agatha came into the room with some visitors. They had all brought presents, and Mary knew by the way Agatha stared at her that she was wondering where hers was. Perhaps it would be better to give the clog now, though she had intended to wait until she and Jackie were alone. She was drawing it out of her pocket when Fraülein, who had been admiring the various gifts and chattering away in broken English, said suddenly:
“And vair is Mary’s present? It is zumzing ver pretty, ver nice, ver wot you call ‘jollie,’ I suppose. Zumzing better zan all, as she and Jean are so attach.”
This speech changed Mary’s intention. She was ashamed to produce the clog now. She drew her hand out of her pocket empty, gave a proud toss of the head, and said with crimson cheeks:
“I haven’t brought anything.”
There was silence in the room. Every eye was fixed upon her; it was the most cruel moment of her life. Even Jackie flushed hotly, turned away, and began to pull out all the blades of a new pocket-knife someone had given him.
How stupid it was of Fraulein not to let the matter drop, without saying anything more! Instead of this she held up her hands and exclaimed: