"You mean Dozia Dalton--yes, she told me her hammer slipped--"

"Slipped indeed!" more scorn and lip curling. "She deliberately
dropped it on my head--"

"And you threw it at the mirror," broke out Jane, weary of acting
the angel without gaining the slightest return from this rude girl.

"Yes, I broke it and I'm glad of it! Now what are you going to do
about it?" Two hands not really pretty, dug deep into the satin
skirt pockets, and Shirley Duncan towered over Jane Allen defiantly.

"What am I going to do about it?" repeated Jane. But the irony was
lost on her companion. "You did not ask to see me just to be
offensive?" parried Jane.

"No indeed, I wanted to remind you I am in this college because your
father gave a scholarship, and I suppose that would mean you might
be nice to me at least."

"I'm sure I want to be," Jane quickly toned down. "But no girl can
make friends with another when she insists on quarreling. I am
willing to pay for the broken mirror--"

"You don't need to trouble yourself; if it is to be paid for I'll do
it myself. My folks wouldn't let me--sponge on anybody."

"Sponge," repeated Jane, frowning with something like disgust.
"Please don't use such horrible slang."