"I think it's a greyish blue," said Adela, squinting along its surface critically.
"Well, what's the difference?" asked Polly, laughing.
"Not much," said Jasper, "I should think."
"Well, anyway, it's lovely," declared Polly; "I just wish I could paint it."
"Do you paint?" asked Adela, suddenly.
"No," said Polly, "not a bit"
"Polly is all for music," said Jasper, quickly. "You ought to hear her play."
"Oh, I can't play much now," said Polly, "but I mean tot some time. Jasper, how long it is since we have had a duet." Her face dropped its cheery curves and a sad little look crept into her eyes.
"That's the bother of travelling about; one can't play in a hotel," said Jasper. "But wait till we get to Dresden, Polly."
"Oh, I can't bear to wait," said Polly. "I don't want to hurry on, Jasper—but oh, I do wish we could play on a piano." Her fingers drummed on the rail in her eagerness.