She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. I have done n-nothing. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter. Feels as if I’ve been dashing back and forth about the whole country, if you want to know. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately.
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