******
“Whath your name?” said Violet Elizabeth.
She lisped! She would, thought William bitterly, with those curls and those skirts. She would. He felt at any rate relieved that none of his friends could see him in the unmanly situation—talking to a kid like that—all eyes and curls and skirts.
“William Brown,” he said distantly, looking over her head as if he did not see her.
“How old are you?”
“Eleven.”
“My nameth Violet Elizabeth.”
He received the information in silence.
“I’m thix.”
He made no comment. He examined the distant view with an abstracted frown.