"Howard, do you really start Wednesday?" Fred said, soberly.
He nodded. "It's great luck."
"You'll have the time of your life," Laura assured him; "why do men have all the fun, Freddy?"
"Because we've been such fools to let 'em."
"Ladies wouldn't find it much fun—wading round in the mud," Howard protested.
"They ought to have the chance to wade round, if they want to!" Fred said—and paused: (was that Miss Carter, bringing Mortimore? Her breath caught with horror. She was sure she heard the lurching footsteps. No; all was silent in the upper hall).
Howard did not notice her preoccupation; he was pouring out his plans, Laura punctuating all he said with cries of admiration and envy. ("I'll die if Morty comes in!" Frederica was saying to herself.)
HOWARD DID NOT NOTICE HER PREOCCUPATION. HE WAS POURING
OUT HIS PLANS, LAURA PUNCTUATING ALL HE SAID WITH CRIES
OF ADMIRATION AND ENVY