"Well, she's the person I love just about best of anybody."
"Best of anybody!"
"Oh, mother, of course, and Tom, and Winnie, and father, and all those. Relations don't count. But I do love her as well as anybody but mother—and Tom, and—well, anyway, I love her dreadfully."
"What is she, a woman, or a girl, or what?"
"She's an angel," said Gypsy.
"What a goose you are!"
"Very likely; but whether I'm a goose or not, she's an angel. I look for the wings every time I see her. She has the sweetest little way of keeping 'em folded up, and you're always on the jump, thinking you see 'em."
"How you talk! I've a good mind to go and see her."
"All right."
So away they went, as pleasant as a summer's day, merrily chatting.