"Elsbeth! Elsbeth, dear! You're not cross, Elsbeth? It's a very big turkey. Do, Elsbeth!"
"Do what?"
"Ask Clare. You like her, don't you?"
No answer.
"Don't you, Elsbeth?" Alwynne's tone was a little anxious.
"Would you care if I didn't?" The pattern of her plate still interested Elsbeth. She was tracing its windings with her fork.
"You silly—it would just spoil everything. That's just it—I would like to get you two fond of each other, only with Clare so busy there's never a chance of your really getting acquainted."
"I knew Clare Hartill long before you did, Alwynne. I knew her as a schoolgirl."
"But not well—not as I know her."
"No, not as you know her."