“It appears so to an outsider. Look at her and her gang!”
“Gang!—David!”
He gave a short laugh.
“The truth is, Polly, seeing we are talking plainly, I don’t like the girls with whom you are so popular—the girls that have made you their queen. They—”
“Queen! What are you talking about, David?” Polly broke in without ceremony. Her voice was scornful.
“Yes, queen,” reiterated the young man. “Only they rule you, not you them.”
“You don’t like it because I said yesterday I hadn’t time to have a flower garden,” accused Polly.
“No,” denied David, “I was thinking of something else. You have too many clubs on your hands.”
“They don’t amount to much in the way of time,” returned Polly.
“They must be a great bore.”