Conscious of the wall between herself and her companion, Tory was aware that she was talking of trivialities until the moment when Kara would admit her inside her closed citadel.
How long before she would speak a second time?
Walking over toward Kara, Tory took a low seat beside the wheeled chair.
With a swift gesture of affection she placed a square book on Kara’s lap. The book was of heavy paper, golden in color back and front and with silver-gray leaves inside. On the outside cover was a painting of an eagle’s wing.
“This is the first time we have ever had a written history of our week at camp, Kara dear. But we decided the other night at our Troop meeting to arrange this to bring to you. So whatever we dropped into the big box in front of Miss Mason’s tent we put inside this book. I have made some sketches and Joan Peters has written a poem dedicated to you. Please look for yourself, won’t you?”
Kara turned away her eyes.
Still Tory had no sensation of anger, only a kind of nervous fear. More than any one who ever knew her could have imagined here was a different Kara!
She now pushed aside the little magazine with a gesture of annoyance.
“I don’t want to know what you have been doing at camp, Tory. I never want to hear any mention of our Girl Scouts again. You must erase my name from our Patrol list and find some one else to fill my place.”
A valiant effort, Tory’s to smile, when in the other girl’s voice and manner there was so much to make smiling difficult.