"Who was 'he,' duckums?"
"Mr. Willie Riley," in a dignified voice. "And I shared his tea!" triumphantly.
"Hurry up, Denis!" Nell's face was worried, anxious. "I've her dry things all ready. But I think she ought to go to bed—"
"I won't! Sure, Nell O'Brien, I'm not a baby to go to bed at seven o'clock!"
Nell, rubbing her down, found she was shivering and trembling all through her slim little body. She huddled her into warm, dry clothes, rubbed her toes, hugged her.
"Asthore, asthore, you've given us all such a bad time!"
"But, Nell, I'm really not a baby! I don't see why you make such a fuss."
"You're absurd, Atom! We didn't know what might be happening to you. We don't know now what was happening. You must tell us—"
"I went out, and—and I got lost, Nell."
"But where did you go? And why?"