“Because she said the other day that she would slap my face.”
“What made her say that?”
“Why, just because I called her a little gypsy. I don’t care, now she does look just like one, doesn’t she?”
“Why, she has got black hair and black eyes, but lots of people have black hair and eyes who are not gypsies. I don’t believe gypsies ever have such beautiful shaped hands and fingers as she has.”
“But she has a black face, too.”
“Oh, no, her face isn’t black; it’s dark and so is your sister Cora’s.”
“Oh, look, there comes a band of gypsies; now just look how dirty some of them look, and what loads of beads they have in their baskets. I wish we had some, don’t you?”
At that moment Zula had reached the spot where the girls were standing.
“Dasn’t you go and ask them gypsies for some beads?” said the first speaker to Zula.