"Here's the c--c--c--catapult, M--Meg; t---take it," Bunty said,
his face white and miserable.
"You little stupid! What do you mean coming creeping here like
this?" Meg said, angry as soon as her heart began to beat
again.
"I only w--wanted to p--p--please you, M--M-Meggie," the little
boy said, with a bitter sob in his voice.
He had put both his arms round her waist, and was burying his nose
in her white muslin dress. She shook him off hastily.
"All right; there--thanks," she said. "Now go home, Bunty;
I want to have a quiet walk in the moonlight by myself."
He screwed his knuckles as far into his eyes as they would go,
his mouth opened, and his lower lip dropped down, down.
"I t--t--told y--y--you a b--b--big st--st--story;" he wept,
rocking to and fro where he stood.
"Did you? Oh, all right! Now go home," she said impatiently.
"You always ARE telling stories, Bunty, you know, so I'm not
surprised. There-go along."
"But--but I'm--must tell you all ab--ab--about it," he said,
still engaged in driving his eyes into his head.
"No, you needn't; I'll forgive you this time," she said
magnanimously, "only don't do it again. Now run away at once,
or you won't have your map done, and miss Marsh will punish you.
Pages:
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94