She darted ahead of him and reached the ruined wharf where Lottie had stood when first Janice had seen her. In imitation of the child she raised her voice in that weird cry:
"He-a! he-a! he-a!"
Back came the imitation, shot out of the wood by the nymph:
"Ha, ha!" laughed the girl. "There's Lottie's echo."
"'A!" laughed the echo. "'Ere's Lottie's echo!"
Nelson, flushed and breathing rather heavily, reached the old dock.
"What a girl you are, Janice!" he said.
"And what a very, very old person you are getting to be, Nelson Haley," she told him. "Principal of the Polktown School! I saw your article in the State School Register. Theories! You write just as though you know what you were writing about."
"Oh—well," he said, rather taken aback by her joking.