Last, the anticlimax of Mrs. Plummer, with her yearning stretch of chin and stringy neck, and the Bersagliere hat she wore "because of, my Italy," propping her bicycle against the fence.
Hearing her mother's silk petticoat descend, Christabel took pad and pencil out to the piece-box at the top of the stairs in order not to miss anything, and presently heard her name.
"I wanted to ask you if you thought Christabel would be in a little play I've written for the children, a little fantasy, Princess Brighteyes and Prince Trueheart, I called it"
"Thee couldn't have made a better choice for Princess Brighteyes," Aunt Ann said, and Mrs. Plummer answered, nervously:
"Well, as a matter of fact—hm!—you see I felt that since Christabel was going to be the leading lady in the little French play—Mademoiselle Soulas happened to tell me—and Annette Perry says she's having her do the solo dance at the dancing-school exhibition, why, I thought it wasn't fair to Christabel to ask
