"Oh, no!" said Dot hopelessly, "nothing half as small as that."
"You've lost the new sleeve-links Alma gave you? Never mind—there are plenty more. Not that? What then? Tell your own Mona—tell your own old Mona."
Two more tears ran down Dot's cheeks.
"It's—it's nearly the end of term," she said.
Mona nodded.
"And I'm going to leave school," she said.
Again Mona nodded and waited.
"I've to go home," said Dot, and she put her head down on Mona's shoulder heavily.
"I've to go home too," said Mona, and she sighed, "right away to the Richmond river, where you girls never come."
"My home," said Dot, "is like a little plain, hedged round with prickly pear, and put on the top of a mountain. No one ever comes in, and we never go out."