About This Book
A Pixie Girl If I'd known! groaned Winifred Cranston, otherwise Wendy, with a note of utter tragedy in her usually cheerful voice. If I'd only known! D'you think I'd have come trotting back here with my baggage? Not a bit of it! Nothing in this wide world should have dragged me. I'd have turned up my hair – yes, it's quite long enough to turn up, Jess Paget, so you needn't look at it so scornfully; it's as nice as yours, and nicer! Well, I tell you I'd have turned up my hair, and run away and joined the 'Waacs' or the 'Wrens', or have driven a motor wagon or conducted a tramcar, or scrubbed floors at a hospital, or done anything – anything, I say! – rather than stay at the Abbey without Mrs. Gifford. It's pretty stiff, certainly, for the Head to go whisking away like this, agreed Magsie Wingfield, sitting on the other shaft of the wheelbarrow. And without any notice either! It leaves one gasping! Stiff? It's the limit! Why didn't she give us decent warning, instead of springing it on to us in this sudden fashion? I feel weak! There wasn't time, explained Sadie Sanderson, who, with Violet Gorton and Tattie Clegg, occupied, in a tight fit, the interior of the wheelbarrow
