"Good!" said Patty, draping the curtain round her shoulders, sontag fashion. "These are fine. Now, see, I'm getting your dress quite fluffy again."
"So you are. I'll finish it, and you do your own. Aren't you going to bed, Patty?"
"No, not exactly. Suppose we sleep here. You take the couch, and I'll doze in this big armchair."
"Are you—are you frightened, Patty?"
"N—no; NO! Of course I'm not! What's there to be afraid of?"
"Well—I am," and Daisy began to whimper, and then to cry.
"Daisy Dow! You stop that! I'd be all right if you'd behave yourself!
Now, don't you get hysterical! If you do, I'll—I'll telephone for the
doctor! Oh, Daisy! the TELEPHONE! WHY didn't we think of that before?
There MUST be one! Let's hunt for it."
Spurred by this new thought, Patty ran through the rooms in search of a telephone. She found one in the back part of the hall, but, alas, it had been disconnected and was useless.
"Bill must have found that out," Patty said, thoughtfully; "and he didn't tell us."
"Why not?" demanded Daisy. "Why wouldn't he tell us?"