She shut the book with a snap.
"Oh, Miss Appleby's coming to see you," said Val, with overacted indifference. "She'll tell you everything that Emmie hasn't told you already."
"I don't choose to ask Miss Appleby for details that I ought to hear from you."
Val looked at Emmie's curiosity-lighted face and kept silence. Her grandmother understood.
"Run out and play, child; you sit too much in the house," she said to the younger child.
"I've got nobody to play with," came from Emmie, not budging.
"Then go and get me some jonquils and narcissuses."
"I've hurt my finger."
"Then take a book and sit in the porch."
"I've read all the books on the juvenile shelf."