“Thank you.” Marjorie accepted it gratefully. “I believe I can write a fairly good theme on that subject. I have always admired Poe’s work.”
“I adore his memory,” asserted Veronica solemnly. “I have read every scrap I could find concerning him. He ranked next to Shakespeare in genius. I know he was an earnest worker and a good man. I am sure that he was not a drunkard, but a terribly maligned genius. He was purposely kept down through jealousy and had to sell the products of his genius for a copper. He suffered terribly, but I imagine he had the inner happiness of knowing that not one brilliant emanation of his master mind could be snatched from him by the unworthy.”
Veronica’s gray eyes flashed in sympathy for the misunderstood man whose transcendental genius made him an outlander among the writers of his period.
“Again I thank you. This time for your lecture.” Marjorie bobbed up and down twice in quick succession. “I’ll try to put some of it into my theme. Now for my room, and the news.”
Jerry pretended not to see Ronny until she was well inside the room. She then rose up, and, in a purposely gruff voice, ordered her out. Needless to say, Ronny was not to be intimidated.
“No, Jeremiah, I shall not budge an inch. Here you sit doing nothing. Why shouldn’t I come in and sit on Marjorie’s side of the room? I have news to impart—n-e-w-s,” spelled Ronny.
At this Jerry pricked up her ears and became suddenly affable.
“I heard today,” began Ronny impressively, “that there will be a basket ball try-out next Friday afternoon in the gym, at four-thirty.”
“That’s cheering news!” Marjorie’s sober features lightened. “Where did you hear it, Ronny?”
“Miss Page told me. The notices will appear in a day or two. She played on a team all the time she was at Wildreth, a prep school she was graduated from. Naturally she is anxious to make the team this year.”