as if she had never been quite so hungry before.
“I wish I was as thin as you, Sara,” Ermengarde said suddenly. “I believe you are thinner than you used to be. Your eyes look so big, and look at the sharp little bones sticking out of your elbow!”
Sara pulled down her sleeve, which had pushed itself up.
“I always was a thin child,” she said bravely, “and I always had big green eyes.”
“I love your queer eyes,” said Ermengarde, looking into them with affectionate admiration. “They always look as
would have to be little ones, but they could be beautiful; and there could be a lamp with a deep rose-colored shade; and a table in the middle, with things to have tea with; and a little fat copper kettle singing on the hob; and the bed could be quite different. It could be made soft and covered with