"No, I'm not. Please let me have the note, Enid."
"I don't think I will."
"But it's mine. It was written to me, remember."
Enid relinquished the incriminating piece of paper very reluctantly, and looked on with disfavour while Patty tore it to shreds.
"I'm fond of justice," she said, "and Muriel Pearson has got off too easily. Patty, I'm not sure if you're not a little too good for this world! I couldn't have torn that note up myself, and yet on the whole I like you for it. You're one of the nicest girls I've ever known!" And throwing her arm affectionately round Patty's waist, she walked with her along the passage to the classroom.
During an interval in the hockey practice that afternoon, Muriel found an opportunity to speak to her cousin.
"How stupid you were this morning, Patty!" she said. "What possessed you to lean over my desk and whisper?"
"What else could I do, when you'd asked me how to work that sum?" replied Patty.
"Why, of course you should have written me a note back, and handed it to me underneath the desk."
"But I'm afraid that wouldn't have been fair," objected Patty.