Aunt Hannah hesitated. “If it’s not too cold for Susan, you may. If it is, you must come and play at some quiet game in here. But understand that you must make no noise while I am busy.”
“Come along,” said Sophia Jane. She caught hold of Susan’s hand and led her quickly out of the room and upstairs, casting rapid glances at her over her shoulder as they went. “Fond of dolls?” she inquired as they were climbing the second flight of stairs.
“I’m fond of this one,” answered Susan, clasping Grace a little closer.
“I had one once,” said Sophia Jane with a superior air; “but I haven’t got her now.”
“Where is she?” asked Susan.
“I killed her,” said Sophia Jane in a cold voice.
“Oh!” said Susan stopping still a moment; “what did you do that for?”
“I hated her,” replied Sophia Jane shortly; “she had such starin’ eyes.”
Susan gazed at the small murderess with awe. “How did you do it?” she asked at length in a lowered tone.
“Drove a nail right through her skull,” answered Sophia Jane, with a spiteful gleam in her blue eyes. “Here’s the attic!”