They beat a retreat as soon as they possibly
could, and, for fear of being asked to play or sing for the benefit of
visitors, deemed it wise to escape into the garden.
"We'll sit in the summer-house, only I must have my jersey," declared
Merle, catching up the garment in question from its peg in the hall, and
pulling it on. "I want some place where I can explode. This is just the
beastliest thing that's ever happened to me in all my life."
"I can't understand it!" puzzled Mavis, with her forehead in wrinkles.
Merle was stumping along the path with her hands in the pockets of her
jersey.
"Why should they accuse _me_, of all people in the world, of
climbing in through the study window? Sybil must have been dreaming.
She's an idiot of a girl. She'd imagine anything from a ghost to a
burglar. What are we going to do about it? I wish to goodness they
_would_ tell Miss Mitchell! I'd rather she knew. I've a jolly good
mind to go and tell her myself. Then I should have first innings and
she'd hear our side of it.
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