She pursed her lips more tightly, and gazed at the pair of culprits as
though she had hoped better things of them and _again_ had been
disappointed. "You know quite well that this is out of bounds." It
came out like an arrow, darting.
"We were looking for some one," began Tim, but in a tone that added
plainly enough "it wasn't you."
"Who's hiding, you see," quoth Judy, "but expecting us--at once." The
delay annoyed her.
"You are both well aware," Aunt Emily went on, ignoring their excuses
as in duty bound, "that your parents would not approve. At this hour
of the morning too! You ought to be fast asleep in bed. If your father
knew--!"
Yet, strange to say, the children felt that they loved her suddenly;
for the first time in their lives they thought her lovable. A kind of
understanding sympathy woke in them; there was something pitiable
about her. For, obviously, she was looking just as they were, but
looking in such a silly way and in such hopelessly stupid places. All
her life she had been looking like this, dressed in crackling black,
wearing a prickly bonnet and heavy goloshes, and carrying a useless
umbrella that of course must bother her.
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