"What's the matter, Dollums?" asked Dotty, as she saw tears in the blue eyes.
"Nothing, Dot, only don't talk about that gold thing, will you? I just simply can't stand it if you do!"
"'Course I won't if you don't want me to, only what DO you s'pose DID become of it?"
"There you go! I think you're too mean for anything!"
"Oh, pshaw, I didn't mean to. I forgot. All right, no more talk 'bout that old rubbish. What shall us talk about?"
"Don't talk at all. I'd rather go to sleep."
"Go, then, old crossy! But I s'pose you don't mean to sleep in your clothes!"
"No," and Dolly laughed a little. "I know I'm an old bear, and a crosspatch, and everything horrid,—but I'm nervous, Dotty, I AM."
"I know it, old girl, but you'll get over it. I believe this city life is wearing you out! I believe it's time you went home."
"Oh, I think so, too. I wish we could go tomorrow!"