Sometimes Abby's sharp American voice rang with the sweetness of a soft bell.
"I thought I'd run over a minute," said Ellen.
The other girl looked sharply at her.

"Why, what's the matter ?" she said.
"Nothing is the matter.

Why ?" "Why, I thought you looked sort of queer.

Maybe it's the light.

Sit down; I'll have the dishes done in a minute, then we'll go into the sitting-room." "I'd rather stay out here with you," said Ellen.
Abby looked at her again.