"Ask her about it, then," suggested Viola, to whom the term brazen would seem, at that moment, to be most applicable.
"Oh, excuse me," returned Amy. "I never wound where I can avoid it. The most polite way always turns out the most satisfactory."
"And do you suppose she is going to leave school?" asked Nita Brant, timidly, as if afraid of her own voice in the matter.
"She told me so last night," said Viola, meekly. "I don't blame her."
"No," said a girl with deep blue eyes, and a baby chin, "I do not see how any girl could stand such cuts, and Dorothy seemed such a sweet girl."
"Better go and hug her now," sneered Viola, "I fancy you will find her rolled up in bed, with her red nose, dying for air."
"It is the strangest thing—" demurred Amy.
"Not at all," insisted Viola, "all sweet girls have two sides to their characters. But I am sick of the whole thing. Let's drop it."
"And take up Dorothy again?" eagerly asked Nita.
"Oh, just as you like about that. If you want to associate with girls who ride in police wagons—"