The doll said nothing, so she nudged it. “Hello,” it said. “I'm Lola, the Living Doll.”
“I know,” said Momo, “but you told me you wanted something. How about this lovely pink seashell? Would you like it?”
“I belong to you,” the doll replied. “All the other kids envy you because I'm yours.”
“You told me that, too,” said Momo. “All right, if you don't want any of my things, perhaps we could play a game together. Shall we?”
“I'd like some nice new things,” the doll repeated. “I don't have anything else,” Momo said.
She took the doll and climbed back outside again. Then she put Lola, the Living Doll, on the ground and sat down facing her.
“Let's pretend you've come to pay me a visit,” Momo suggested. “Hello,” said the doll. “I'm Lola, the Living Doll.”
“How nice of you to call,” Momo replied politely. “Have you come far?”
“I belong to you,” the doll said. “All the other kids envy you because I'm yours.”
“Look,” said Momo, “we'll never get anywhere if you go on repeating yourself like this.”
“I'd like some nice new things,” said the doll, fluttering its eyelashes.
Momo tried several games in turn, but nothing came of them.
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