I got closer to Poppy. If the sheets would only hurry up and get warm, was my thought. What was that? Oh!... Goliath had kicked the wall in his sleep. I tried to quit shivering. Those blamed co-old sheets.
“If you want to shimmey,” purred Poppy, kept awake, “why don’t you get out on the roof where you’ll have more room?”
“This is a crazy notion,” says I unhappily.
“What?”
“Sleeping here. What good’ll it do us, anyway?”
“You seem to be getting a lot of exercise out of it.”
“I’ve got a notion to get up and sleep with old Goliath.”
“If he rolls over on top of you in the middle of the night you’ll wish you’d stayed here.”
“I’d rather be a pancake than an icicle.”
“You don’t mean to say you’re cold!”