"Well, if you aren't the foolishest--"
"They would, too," he asserted, with renewed bitterness. "If the
house was to fall down, you'd see! They'd all say--"
Marjorie interrupted him. She put her hand on the top of her
head, looking a little startled.
"What's that?" she said.
"What's what?"
"Like rain!" Marjorie cried. "Like it was raining in here! A drop
fell on my--"
"Why, it couldn't--" he began. But at this instant a drop fell
upon his head, too, and, looking up, they beheld a great oozing
splotch upon the ceiling. Drops were gathering upon it and
falling; the tinted plaster was cracking, and a little stream
began to patter down and splash upon the floor. Then there came a
resounding thump upstairs, just above them, and fragments of wet
plaster fell.
"The roof must be leaking," said Marjorie, beginning to be
alarmed.
"Couldn't be the roof," said Penrod. "Besides there ain't any
rain outdoors."
As he spoke, a second slender stream of water began to patter
upon the floor of the hall outside the door.
"Good gracious!" Marjorie cried, while the ceiling above them
shook as with earthquake--or as with boys in numbers jumping, and
a great uproar burst forth overhead.
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