“What should he go there for? He knows ever so much more than the pastor.”
“Yes, but unfortunately he doesn’t believe in any God at all, Gerda.”
“Well, you can be mighty sure, my dear, that if he doesn’t, he has excellent reasons for it.”
“Why, Gerda, how can you say such a thing!”
“You’d almost think—” broke in the middle one.
“What would you almost think?” snapped Gerda.
“Nothing, nothing at all. Please don’t bite me!” replied the sister with a sudden air of great meekness.
“Now will you tell me this minute what you meant!”
“No, no, no, no, no; I guess I’ve a right to hold my tongue if I want to.”
She walked off together with the twelve-year-old, each with her arm around the other’s shoulder in sisterly concord. The eldest followed them, strutting with indignation.