"You don't look very revolting, Laura," drawled Amelia Boggs, "even with that red necktie on crooked."
"Just the same, I have anarchistic tendencies. I feel 'em," declared the red-haired girl.
"That is not anarchism you feel," scoffed Bess. "If I had eaten what you did for supper—"
"Oh, say not so!" begged Laura. "Don't tell me that all this disturbance within me is from merely what I ate. Why, I feel that I might lead an assault on Cupp's office, take her by force, and immure her in—"
"The old secret passage to the boathouse," put in Nan.
"Oh, goodness—gracious—Agnes!" said Amelia, looking at one of her watches, "if we are going to do anything to that wild Western mustang to-night—"
"Hush! Have no fear," interrupted Laura. "There is time enough."
"Procrastination should know that," giggled Bess, "with all the watches and clocks she owns."
"While we gab here," went on Amelia, "curfew time approaches."
Laura struck an attitude. "Listen, girls!" she cried. "'Curfew shall not ring to-night!'"