“You can’t buy beads like that for any measly five dollars,” Jacqueline told her patronizingly.
“Well, who says I want to?” Eleanor told her, but with a half-heartedness that was not lost on Jacqueline.
“Look here!” said Jacqueline, like one conferring a favor. “Since you can’t get to Boston to buy your beads before school opens, maybe I’ll sell you mine.”
“Don’t want ’em!” muttered Eleanor, but she still kept the beads in her hand.
“They cost ten dollars,” Jacqueline said honestly, “but you can have ’em for five, because I want the money, and look here, if you don’t like ’em after all, I’ll buy ’em back from you next week.”
Eleanor began to sparkle with interest.
“Would you, really and honest?” she asked.
“Why, sure,” said Jacqueline heartily. “You give me the five dollars, and you can keep the beads, and wear ’em all you like—they’ll be yours, you know—and then if you get tired of ’em, and want your silly old bangles after all, why, you can have your money back. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
“Why, yes,” admitted Eleanor, swept off her feet, as Caroline had been swept on an earlier occasion, as you’ll remember, by Jacqueline’s sheer force of will.
“All right,” Jacqueline caught her up. “You’ve got the beads, now give me the money. I’ve got to beat it home.”