"Damn!"
Margaret bit her lip. "If you could control your temper until we're out of the way, it would help. I have had about all I can stand with her and finding the place and settling the details."
Gregory was ashamed of his outburst. After all, Margaret could not help being herself and he was sorry for her in an impersonal way.
"But I wish you wouldn't talk so much about her nerves. A baby scarcely six. You'll make her so."
"I don't think you can tell me anything about Puck that I don't know. Remember, I am with her all day, not just at night in time to tell her stories. If any one excites and makes her nervous, it's you. Remember, you never hear the versions of those stories she gives Lady Jane."
Margaret had used this shaft so often that the barb had dulled. "Well, she's not going to have any of them for some time."
Puck's bare feet pattered along the hall and she entered ready for her bed in her little white pajamas, that buttoned up the back out of her reach. Gregory buttoned them and swung her into his lap.
"Where's Lady Jane? Is she too tired for a story to-night?"
"Lady Jane don't feel like stories to-night."
"Dear me! She's not sick, is she?"