No; look me in the eye, Carlie! They were all shouting
that silly thing he started. Didn't he do it?"
Carlie cast down thoughtful eyes. "I wouldn't like to tell, Miss
Rennsdale," he said. "I guess I better be going or I'll catch
cold. Thank you for a very nice time."
"There!" said Miss Rennsdale vehemently, as Carlie went on his
way. "What did I tell you? Carlie Chitten's too manly to say it,
but I just KNOW it was that terrible Penrod Schofield."
Behind her, a low voice, unheard by all except the person to whom
it spoke, repeated a part of this speech: "What did I tell you?"
This voice belonged to one Penrod Schofield.
Penrod and Marjorie had descended by another stairway, and he now
considered it wiser to pass to the rear of the little party at
the foot of the stairs. As he was still in his pumps, his choked
shoes occupying his overcoat pockets, he experienced no
difficulty in reaching the front door, and getting out of it
unobserved, although the noise upstairs was greatly abated.
Marjorie, however, made her curtseys and farewells in a
creditable manner.
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