"They didn't treat you well?" he suggested, picking out a red ember from the coals on the point of a knife and applying it to the pipe.
"I'm not to wear my knickers any more," Caroline said, with a gulp, "and my bathing suit has to have a skirt. I've got to stop p-playing with the b-boys—so much, that is," she added, honestly.
The man turned his head slightly.
"That seems hard," he said; "what's the reason?"
"I'm 'most twelve," said Caroline; "you have to be a young lady, then."
"I see," the man said. He looked at her thoughtfully. "I suppose you would look larger in more clothes," he added.
"That's it," she assured him, "I do. That's just it."
"And so you expect to avoid all this by running away?" he asked, settling into his own stump seat. "I am afraid you can't do it."
Caroline set her teeth. He regarded her quizzically.
