"It wouldn't have your hairpins sticking up all over the bed,
anyhow," murmured Veronica dreamily.
"I like that!" said Robin; "why--"
"You're harder than I am," said Veronica.
"I should wish you to have a room, Veronica," I said. "My fear is
that in place of one untidy bedroom in the house--a room that makes
me shudder every time I see it through the open door; and the door,
in spite of all I can say, generally is wide open--"
"I'm not untidy," said Robin, "not really. I know where everything
is in the dark--if people would only leave them alone."
"You are. You're about the most untidy girl I know," said Dick.
"I'm not," said Robin; "you don't see other girls' rooms. Look at
yours at Cambridge. Malooney told us you'd had a fire, and we all
believed him at first."
"When a man's working--" said Dick.
"He must have an orderly place to work in," suggested Robin.
Dick sighed. "It's never any good talking to you," said Dick. "You
don't even see your own faults."
"I can," said Robin; "I see them more than anyone. All I claim is
justice."
"Show me, Veronica," I said, "that you are worthy to possess a room.
At present you appear to regard the whole house as your room. I find
your gaiters on the croquet lawn. A portion of your costume--an
article that anyone possessed of the true feelings of a lady would
desire to keep hidden from the world--is discovered waving from the
staircase window.
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