"Hum," said Tinny. "Brown hair, perhaps, but not black. The black-haired dolls in the shop-windows look common."
"Never mind. Any haired would do so long as we got her," said Agatha. "But don't talk about it. It does make me want her so dreadfully."
Late that afternoon, just about the time that the little boy next door would be coming home from school, a small figure with a shawl drawn over its head might have been seen at Miss Burton's front gate. She had waited patiently for some minutes. At last she was rewarded by the sight, or the sound rather, for it was almost too dark to see any one, of Master Red-Head coming up the road. When he got close to his own door she called out. It was rather difficult to do so, for she had no idea what his name was.
"Master—Mr.—" she began, and then changing suddenly, "boy, please, I don't know your name."
He stopped and came up to her, exclaiming of course, "I say, who's there? What's up?"
"It's me—Prin—I mean one of the little girls next door, the one who picked up your old books the other day. I want to ask you something, please."
Red-Head was all attention, and the two went on talking for some minutes.
"You're sure he will?" said Jinny at last.
"Quite positive. I'll get all out of him I can. It's real silver, you say."
"Real, pure silver," she replied.