"You take six," said Luke, and he picked out six good runners, each with little healthy strawberry plants on them. He gave them to Bets.
"Who's that?" said Bets suddenly, as she saw someone coming towards them.
"It's Miss Trimble," said Luke. "You needn't be afraid of her. She won't hurt you."
Miss Trimble came up, smiled at Bets. Bets didn't like her very much, she was so thin and bony. She wore glasses without rims, pinched on to the sides of her nose. They kept falling off, and dangled on a little chain. Bets watched to see how many times they would fall off.
"Well, and who is this little girl?" said Miss Trimble, in a gay, bird-like voice, nodding at Bets. Her glasses at once fell off and she put them on again.
"I'm Bets from next door," said Bets.
"And what have you got there?" said Miss Trimble, looking at the strawberry plants in Bets' hands. "Some lovely treasure?"
"No," said Bets. "Just some strawberry runners."
Miss Trimble's glasses fell off again and she put them back.
"Be careful they don't run away from you!" she said, and laughed loudly at her own joke. Bets didn't think it was very funny; but she laughed too, out of politeness. Miss Trimble's glasses fell off again.