But Weenie blinked at them mildly from her secure position.
“An uzzer time,” she said, “p’raps you will let me play with you.”
Again the mother shielded her face as if from the fire.
“That was very, very naughty,” she said, when she could trust her voice; she knew the hearts of the two little mothers were bleeding for the unmerited sufferings of their darlings. “What should you think, Weenie, if auntie and I quarrelled, and then when I was out of the way, auntie came and thrashed you?”
But Weenie looked more supercilious than repentant.
“They’s only got sawdust in their ole bodies, they’s nosing but dolls,” she said; “it didn’t hurt them.”
“But it hurt poor Phyl and Dolly,” the mother said.
“Um,” said Weenie’s lips. Her eyes added that they had brought it entirely upon themselves.
Three accusing fingers were standing up against her.
“Anything else?” said Mrs. Conway.