Barbara entered once again, and instantly, upon the field of the passions.

Here she was fated by her temperament to be in all cases a miserable victim, because panic, whether she were accepted or rejected by the object of her devotion, reduced her to incoherent foolishness; she could only be foolish now, and, although her heart beat like a leaping animal inside her, allowed Miss Letts to carry on the conversation.
But Miss Letts's wandering eye hurt Mary's pride.

She was not really interested in her, and once Mary had come to that conclusion about any one, complete, utter oblivion enveloped them.

She perceived, however, Barbara's agitation, and at that, flattered and appeased, she was amiable again.

There followed between the two a strangled and disconnected conversation.
Mary began: "I've got four dolls at home." "Have you ?" breathlessly from Barbara.