Tell us about it," said Patsy.
"Some other time, girls," answered the boy, red and distressed.

"It--it wouldn't interest you a bit." "Why not ?" asked Louise, softly.
"Because it doesn't interest me," he replied.
"Are you so sure of election ?" inquired Beth.
"I'm sure of defeat, if you must know," he declared, scowling at the recollection of his predicament.
"You haven't been cowardly enough to give up ?" asked Patricia, boldly.
"What do you mean by that, Patsy Doyle ?" he asked, the scowl deepening.
"Just what I say, Ken.

A brave man doesn't know when he's beaten, much less beforehand." He looked at her fixedly.
"I'm not brave, my dear," he replied, more gently than they had expected.

"The people here don't understand me, nor I them.

I'm laughed at and reviled, a subject for contemptuous jeers, and--and it hurts me.
I don't like to be beaten.