"I'm so glad that people don't chatter," said Polly, when at last they
turned away, for the swift clouds had shut it all out. "Did you see
Phronsie's face, Jasper, when that light burst out?"
"Yes, and father's," answered Jasper. "I expect he'd been looking for
her; everybody is so bundled up you can hardly find your best friend.
And then he saw her."
"Yes, and she saw him and called him," said Polly, "didn't you hear
her?"
"Didn't I, though?" said Jasper; "who could help it? Wasn't father
pleased when he got up to us, Tom, to think you had Phronsie in such
good shape? Phronsie, you're in luck," pinching as much of her toes as
the bundle of blanket would allow; "you've got the best place of any of
us, up on that perch."
"I like it," said Phronsie, in grave delight, "very much, indeed,"
surveying them out of the depths of the shawl, "and I wish it needn't
stop."
"Well, it must," said Polly, with a sigh. "Dear me, see those people
run."
"Well, it's cold," said Jasper; "let's you and I race to the hotel,
Polly."
"And the show is over," said Tom, "why shouldn't they run?" as Jasper
and Polly set off, and he strode after, getting there nearly as soon.
An hour later, Polly, who couldn't get to sleep again, for a nap before
breakfast, went out to the little balcony window just outside her door,
where she might sit and write in her journal, and meantime catch any
chance view that the grey scudding clouds might afford.
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