“I don’t think so. You see, I just jumped out of that cherry truck. I wanted to ask about your beautiful quilt.”
As she spoke, Veve glanced over her shoulder toward the road. To her dismay, she saw that the truck already had moved a few feet ahead. She would have to talk fast unless she wanted to be left behind.
“It is a lovely quilt,” said the lady. “I believe the pattern is called ‘Duck’s Foot in the Mud.’ The pieced blocks do resemble the imprint of a duck’s webbed foot.”
“Oh, yes,” agreed Veve, scarcely heeding what the woman said. “The quilt would look simply gorgeous in our Brownie quilt show. Would you—would you please let me borrow it for the display? I’d take the very best care of it.”
The lady smiled because the little girl seemed so worried and earnest.
“Why, I’d love to let you have the quilt for a display,” she said. “Only I can’t.”
“You can’t?” Veve quavered.
“No. You see, the quilt isn’t mine to offer.”
“But I thought—”