They were both laughing when Harry came up.
"That is the first time I have run a race," Jeanne said.

"I have often wanted to try how fast I could run, but I have never ventured to ask mademoiselle; she would have been horrified; but I don't know how it is Virginie does not run faster." "Virginie has more flesh," Harry said smiling.

"She carries weight, as we should say in England, while you have nothing to spare.
"And she is three years older," Virginie put in.

"Jeanne is just sixteen, and I am not thirteen yet; it makes a difference." "A great deal of difference," Harry agreed; "but I don't think you will ever run as fast as she does.

That will not matter, you know," he went on, as Virginie looked a little disappointed, "because it is not likely that you will ever race again; but Jeanne looks cut out for a runner--just the build, you see--tall, and slim, and active." "Yes," Virginie agreed frankly, "Jeanne has walked ever so far and never gets tired, while I get dreadfully tired; mamma says sometimes I am quite a baby for my age." "Here are some people coming," Harry said; "as we pass them please talk with a little patois.