“Of course––Steve. You knew all the time, only you wouldn’t admit it. Oh, I’m so glad! I want to hug some one. Isn’t it fine?”
“Yes, fine indeed. But you don’t mean that you want to hug Steve?”
“No, goose. You know I meant Jack; but I––” She regarded her friend doubtfully. But Mollie Babcock was dressing rapidly, and her face was averted.
“And Mollie, I didn’t tell you all––almost the best. We’re going home, Jack says; going right away; this very week, maybe.”
For a moment the dressing halted. “I am very glad––for you,” said Mollie, in an even voice.
“Glad, for me!” mimickingly, baitingly. 254 “Mollie Babcock, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were envious.”
Mollie said nothing.
“Or weren’t glad your husband is coming.”
Still no word.
“Or––or––Mollie, what have I done?” Annie cried in dismay. “Don’t cry so; I was only joking. Of course you know that I didn’t mean that you envied our good luck, or that you wouldn’t be crazy to see Steve.”