"I do."
"Now if you wore a brown dress, would you cease to be a white girl and become a nigrio?"
"A what?" cried Mollie.
"A nigrio—a little brown darky girl," said the Unwiseman.
"No," said Mollie. "I'd still be a white or pink girl, whatever color I was before."
"Well—that's the way with my white and gold parlor. It's white and gold, and I give it a brown dress for protection. That's all there is to it. I see you keep your vases on the mantel-piece. Queer notion that. Rather dangerous, I should think."
Mollie laughed.
"Dangerous?" she cried. "Why not at all. They're safe enough, and the mantel-piece is the place for them, isn't it? Where do you keep yours?"
"I don't have any. I don't believe in 'em," replied the Unwiseman. "They aren't any good."
"They're splendid," said Mollie. "They're just the things to keep flowers in."