She's writin' a novel, and she's up in her den on the fourth
floor. We don't even call her to her meals. If she wants to come, she
comes; and if she don't, I takes a few things up and sets 'em outside her
door."
"Oh," said Patty, with great interest, "can't you speak to people when
they're writing novels?"
"Indade, no, miss. It spiles the whole thing, and they has to begin all
over again if a word is spoken to them."
"I think that's wonderful," said Patty, much impressed, "and I'm just crazy
to see my Cousin Elizabeth. And Ruth, where is she?"
"Miss Ruth, she's at her school, miss, around on the next block. She'll be
home at one o'clock and then you'll see her. Now why don't ye go and lie
down and rest yerself?"
"But I'm not tired," said Patty, "I just want to get started; get to living
here, you know. Can't I go into the library and look at some of the books?"
"Yes, miss, sure, if there's nobody there. I'll shlip up an' peep."
Molly went softly up-stairs, and Patty followed on tiptoe. It seemed
strange to be so quiet, for at Villa Rosa everybody seemed to try to make
all the noise possible.
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