“Not when they are as strong and sound as I am, and if they have sense enough to take their wet clothes off at once and have a stiff glass of brandy and water. Indeed, I think it did me all the good in the world; I wanted a little cooling down.”
I had no comment to offer upon that speech, except a rising colour in my face that I would have given much to have had cooled down. So Tom went on. “Tell me some of the things that make you wish you were not going to England, Kitty.”
“Many things—nothing in particular, I suppose.”
“There are things you don’t want to leave?”
“Yes.”
“And people?”
“Yes.”
“Whom will you miss most? You are not intimate with many people, Kitty. You have very few friends indeed, for a girl of your age.”
“Yes, very few. I don’t think I like girls.”
He was silent a minute, looking at me, and then he said, “Are there many people you will miss more than me?”