_I'm_ quite a nice person, and haven't plunged into the
heart of Cluhir, but it's only by sort of accident, like this, that
you will ever say a word to me!"
"You'd better insure against accidents of this kind!" said Judith, who
was frankly enjoying herself; "and if you choose to renounce the
charms of Cluhir, you needn't make a virtue of it! Perhaps they don't
want you! They mayn't realise what a nice person you are! Would you
like me to explain to Tishy Mangan--"
Bill Kirby, who was possessed of good brown eyes and a profile like a
handsome battle-axe, was a young man of no special intellectual gifts,
but the sound judgment that distinguished him in the hunting-field was
wont to stand his friend in other emergencies. He was entirely aware
that he was no match for Judith in debate, but he was also aware that
deeds sometimes speak louder than words. He attempted no spoken reply,
but after a wary glance round the room, he permitted his large, brown
hand to descend upon and envelop Judith's, that rested on the sofa
beside him.
"You know you're talking rot," he murmured, cautiously. "No, don't
struggle. If you say things like that, you've got to be punished. Are
you sorry?"
"Not in the least!" replied Judith, with an equal caution; "but you
will be, soon! Mrs. St. George is looking at you!" The battle-axe
profile of Mr. Kirby betrayed no hint of the situation.
Pages:
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209