My cousin Jenny Fynnett is here, and desires to be my bedfellow to-night.
"It's my own hair, Jenny Walters," said Dab, almost savagely.
Claps on cover, runs and sits on sofa between Jenny and Bessie.
But in a note of delicious insincerity she only said aloud, "Not all, Jenny; surely not all."
"Yes, but that isn't to say that he'll ever come back to her," said Jenny.
"Why lift her up and kiss her, and forgive her, of course," said Jenny.
And with whom are you to stay when we reach the island, Jenny?
"It's plain that the good fools love each other," said Jenny.
"The longer apart the wider the breach, and the harder to cover it," said Jenny.
"I didn't think you had sense enough to know it," said Jenny.