“You’re tired, dear.”
“To-morrow I get up!”
“No.... Clara, when you get up, you’ll go back to your room downstairs. I love you, here, Clara.”
Clara’s heavy eyelids shut with a soft gesture of retiscence. The light in the room was dimmed. The wood was old and mellow all about them.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Laughter and a volley of words pushed up.
“Who’s that?”
“Mildred Dozen is here. And Thelma——“
“They’re wild animals, aren’t they?”
“Yes. But Thelma’s stayed wild. Mildred’s a wild animal tamed....”