“Well, she didn’t break our window, anyhow,” said Clare, rather doggedly.
“How do you know that? It is still a perfect mystery.”
“Don’t be absurd, mother. How did the vase get through the window?”
Mrs. Heywood was baffled for an answer.
“Ah, that is most perplexing.”
“Well, leave it at that,” said Clare.
Mollie was still wrestling with the mysteries of light and heat.
“If it doesn’t burn now,” she said, “I won’t lay another finger on it—At Home or no At Home.”
She seized the dustpan and broom and, with a hot face, marched out of the room.
Clare pressed her forehead with the tips of her fingers.