"Noise?" He looked surprised. Sheila Pat, tailor-wise in her tablecloth, regarded Miss Kezia thoughtfully.
"May I ask," resumed her aunt, "if you are playing a game?"
"Jolly good game," Denis agreed smilingly.
"And it necessitates the smashing and throwing to the floor of—those?" pointing majestically. "And the ruining of the tablecloth?"
"Not necessarily, Aunt Kezia; Sheila Pat's only an Atom—I don't expect she'll tear the cloth."
"You will not have another, in any case," Miss Kezia said. A little flush rose to Denis's brow; his mouth shut into a thin line. Then he looked at Nell.
"Nell, amn't I right in understanding that this is our cloth?"
"Quite, Denis."
"Have—" exclaimed Miss Kezia, suddenly, "have you been knocking nails into my walls?"
"We'll pull them out," said Nell coldly, "since you object to them."