Nora
would certainly have heard the noise we made if she hadn't been so
interested in her music.
Phil did not come in very early; in fact, I think it was late. I room
with him, you know, and it seemed as if I'd been asleep a good while
when his shutting of our door woke me up. Of course I turned over and
looked at him; I'm sure there wasn't anything in that to make a person
mad, though perhaps I did stare a little, for Phil had a queer
expression on his face,--jolly, and yet sort of ashamed, too. His
face was quite red, and his eyes looked glassy.
He leaned against the closed door, with his hat on the back of his
head, and just scowled at me. "What're you staring at, I'd like to
know?" he said roughly. "Without exception, you're the most inquisitive
youngster! you _must_ have your finger in every pie. Just turn yourself
right over to the wall and go to sleep this minute; I _won't_ have you
spying on me!"
Now I usually give in to Phil, and I do hate to get into rows with
people, but I couldn't stand that; I just sat straight up in bed and
spoke out. "I'm _not_ inquisitive," I said, "and I'm _not_ spying on
you, either. I wouldn't do such a mean thing, and you know it.
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