There was a whistle under the window, Don's old whistle, the old war-cry whistle that he used when we formed a pretty invincible team against Louise and Edward. I ran to the window and stuck my head out. There was Don, very tidy for a change in his blazer and white flannels, looking up. "Aren't you coming to the dance, Nicky?" he called. "I've been waiting for you for ages by the gate."
Goodness, I thought, my heart isn't broken after all! Not even chipped! Not even cracked! I leant half-out of the window and yelled, "Don! Don, wait for me, I'm coming!"
From the short story FAMILY TROUBLE.
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