“I didn’t poke. She asked me! Mother can tell you that she did. I’m going again on Saturday.”
Jill’s wrath gave way to an overwhelming anxiety.
“And me? And me? I am sure she asked me too.”
“No, she didn’t. It’s a grown-up party. She’ll ask you another time with Pam. She said she wanted to know Pam.”
It was the last straw to be classed with Pam, a child of eight summers! Jill stuttered with mortified rage.
“S–neak! Just like you! Mark my word, Elizabeth Trevor, I’ll be even with you about this!”