"If you try to kick I'll break you in two," muttered the athlete.
"Let go! I won't," wailed Pat, who knew and dreaded the other's strength.
Released, she massaged her aching elbows. "Dirty you, though!" she said, scowling at Constance. "Sneaking a letter off to him that way."
"I suppose you'd like to censor it," taunted the writer. "Well, if you want to know what's in it, I told him just how old you are and what kind of a silly little ass. I don't think he'll come back for any more baby-kisses."
At this Pat grinned inwardly. Whatever else it may have been, that was no baby-kiss that had passed between them. With her equanimity quite restored she remarked:
"You lie."
"Tasty manners!" commented Dee.
"I don't know what you've got to say about it," said Pat venomously. "I noticed a sedan with all the curtains pulled down just after you disappeared from the house with Jimmy James." This was a random shot. It went wide of the target.
"Cut it, Scrubby! Cut it!" admonished her sister calmly. "I don't put on any snuggling sketches where everybody can see me."
"Don't call me Scrubby!" choked the girl.