Under the plane tree Peters found a thin girl, with a white dress, black stockings, yellow hair, and a large doll. He gazed at her mildly.
"Are you Elsa?"
"Yes. Are you the lodger?"
"Yes." He paused for want of ideas, and added that it was a fine Saturday afternoon.
She had much more self-possession than he had. She looked at him critically. "Were you going to sit out here, lodger?"
"I had been thinking of it."
"Well, do it then."
He sat down beside her, and said that she had a nice doll.
"Yes; its name is Mrs Markham. I'm giving her up, because I'm nearly nine, and it's silly to keep on with dolls when you're nearly grown up. I used to have six dolls, and I've given them all up except Mrs Markham. She'll have to go too."