“Well, she’s dead,” said Sophia Jane recklessly. “Where’s her head?” asked Susan; “perhaps we might mend it.”
“Broken all up into tiny little bits,” said the other.
Susan looked silently at the limp pink leather body stretched out on the floor, then she exclaimed suddenly:
“I tell you what!”
“What?” said Sophia Jane.
“We’ll get a new head for her at the shop. I know you can do it, because Maria once bought one for one of mine.”
“That’s all very well,” said Sophia Jane sharply; “but I haven’t got enough money. I’ve only got twopence-halfpenny left.”
“Oh, that wouldn’t do, of course,” said Susan. “You couldn’t get one large enough for the body under eighteenpence. When will you have some more?”
“Not till Saturday week, because I’ve lost all the next in bad marks.”
“What do you have bad marks for?” asked Susan.