In the bright sunlight, the coverlet looked even more faded than at first sight. The right hand corner bore an ugly brown stain. One of the edges was frayed.
For a moment, the Brownies merely gazed at the quilt. No one said a word.
Then Jane, always outspoken, found her tongue.
“You call that a quilt?” Her tone was most scornful.
“It is a quilt!” Veve said, her eyes flashing. “The nice lady said so! Furthermore, she didn’t just loan me the coverlet. She gave it to me!”
“And no wonder!” went on Jane. “It’s not worth a thing! Why, I bet a dog used it for a bed!”
“That’s not so,” Veve retorted. She was becoming angry now as well as hurt. “It’s a good quilt and I like it!”
“Maybe you can find a better one before the show,” Sunny interposed. “One that’s not so faded.”
Veve started to reply, but words would not come. Instead, a salty tear trickled down her nose.