We stared fascinated. Then Angel blew out his lips in disgust, and said—
"Ain't girls the most sickenin' things?"
"There she goes again, messing with the doll's quilt," I agreed.
"Le's fwow somefing at her!" suggested The Seraph.
"Yes, and get into a row with the Bishop," answered Angel. "But I don't see myself going over there to play again. She's spoiled everything."
"I s'pose she's a spoiled child," said The Seraph, dreamily. "Wonder where her muvver is."
"I say," said Angel, "let's rap on the pane, and then when she looks up, we'll all stick our tongues out at her. That'll scare her all right!"
We did.
When her wondering blue eyes were raised to our window, what they saw was three white disks pressed against the glass, with a flattened pink tongue protruding from each. We glared to see the effect of this outrage upon her. But the dauntless little creature never quailed. Worse than that, she put her fingers to her lips and blew three kisses at us—one apiece.
We were staggered. We withdrew our reddened faces hastily and stared at each other. We were aghast. Almost we had been kissed by a girl!