"Chuck's little cousin has been kidnapped!" It was out, and Muriel looked up long enough to judge the effect on her hearers and then fell to sobbing again.
Phyllis felt something in her throat contract.
"Little Don?" she asked.
"Yes, and, oh, dear, just because I'd seen him in the park yesterday I had to answer all kinds of questions, and I'm all nervous and tired out."
The girls looked at the crumpled heap in disgust. It was like the Muriel of this year to insist on being the central figure.
They went back to their desks in thoughtful silence.
Phyllis sat beside Muriel, quite unconscious of her tears; her hands were clenched, and her eyes saw nothing but Don's impish little face.