"'Isn't it pretty late for Dolly?'"
"Hasn't got any house?" He glanced at her father. "'Oh, it is pitiful—in a whole cityful.' But if I were to say that I would make you one?" he went on; "one with four rooms. And windows in each room."
The child pondered, fixing a bashful look on his handsome face.
"Would there be stairs?"
"Yes."
"And closets? Mamma says we never have enough closet-room."
"That's right, Claudia," said Ingles, commendingly; "score the profession."
"Yes, closets, if you insist."