was a somewhat angry color.

"It wasn't very pleasant to have to give up any, and there are all those
wardrobe shelves I had to take my things off from too, and I don't think
you've any right to make a fuss."

"That's polite!" said Joy, with a laugh. Gypsy knew it wasn't, but for
that very reason she wouldn't say so.

One more subject of dispute came up almost before this was forgotten.
When they were all ready to go to bed, Joy wanted the front side.

"But that's where I always sleep," said Gypsy.

"There isn't any air over the back side and I can't breathe," said Joy.

"Neither can I," said Gypsy.

"I never can get to sleep if I don't have the place I'm used to," said
Joy.

"You can just as well as I can," said Gypsy. "Besides, it's my bed."

This last argument appeared to be unanswerable, and Gypsy had it her
way.

She thought it over before she went to sleep, which was not very soon;
for Joy was restless, and tossed on her pillow, and talked in her
dreams. Of course the front side and the upper drawers belonged to
her—yes, of course. She had only taken her rights. She would be