dare you think? What were you thinking?”
Jessie tittered, and she and Lavinia nudged each other in unison. All the girls looked up from their books to listen. Really, it always interested them a little when Miss Minchin attacked Sara. Sara always said something queer, and never seemed the least bit frightened. She was not in the least frightened now, though her boxed ears were scarlet and her eyes were as bright as stars.
“I was thinking,” she answered grandly and politely, “that you did not know
Last Doll,” she said. “The Last Doll.” And her little mournful voice had an odd sound.
“The Last Doll, indeed!” said Miss Minchin. “And she is mine, not yours. Everything you own is mine.”
“Please take it away from me, then,” said Sara. “I do not want it.”
If she had cried and sobbed and seemed frightened,