"Oh, cut it out!" Bubble's dignity collapsed with his attitude. The tilted chair came down with a bang and its occupant settled himself more naturally upon a corner of the desk. "Don't bother me! I can't come out. Doctor's away. Some one's got to attend to business. See those medicines? Well, don't you go handling them! This here is for Lizzie Stephens (measles), and that there is for Mrs. Nixon (twins). If they got mixed I'd be responsible. Run away!"
"Where's the doctor?" asked Ann, ignoring.
"The doctor is out. You needn't wait. He won't be back all day."
"Where'd he go?"
"Little girls mustn't ask questions!"
Ann's small face wrinkled into an elfish grin. "I know where he's gone," she said slyly.
"Yes, you do!" This sarcastic comment was Bubble's most emphatic negative.
"Very well, then, I don't."
Not to be outdone, Ann volunteered no further information. She sat down on the step and waited.
Bubble busied himself with tying up the bottles. Presently he stepped out from behind the desk.