"You know what I mean, Florence, so don't pretend to be as absurd
as Polly Adams and Molly are. Of course you and I both know that
you three girls could have the pick of the town, if you chose; and
I don't see why you take up with the daughter of a carpenter."
Polly had called Florence "a flat," but there was no suggestion of
weakness in her reply now. On the contrary, she drew up her small
figure to its full height, and spoke with a simple, childish
dignity which might have put to shame her companion.
"You needn't say any more about it, Katharine. It is just because
we do have the pick of the town that we have taken up with Jean
Dwight. At least, she is too much of a lady to slander her friends
behind their backs, even if she is only a carpenter's daughter."
"Don't be so crushing, Florence. I only wanted to know what was
the reason you were with her so much," answered Katharine, trying
to pass off the matter lightly, although she was privately
resolving to cultivate the acquaintance of this girl, of whom her
friends were so fond.
One bright day in early October, the V had walked up from school
together as far as Molly's, where they settled themselves on the
piazza to talk over the doings of the day.
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