"I don't mind, of course—only—"
"Then I may. I'll make another copy for you."
"I don't really need it—only—it was just a fancy, you know."
"Yes. Were you feeling particularly cheerful on Sunday evening?"
Ethel looked up, smiling. "Now, why must you ask that?"
"I should like to know. I don't trace the connection between all the extracts."
"Perhaps I'll tell you some day. Not this morning. I have not time."
"And I am taking up your time. But I don't seem to have seen anything of you yet."
"No. And I didn't mean—only it would be a long talk to go into those extracts. And I have everything to see to. But I don't mind saying—no, I wasn't very cheerful on Sunday evening. I wanted to go to church, and I couldn't be spared. Mother was poorly, and everything seemed awry, and I found myself on the edge of grumbles. So I looked out something to do me good."
"Perhaps it will do me good too. Ethel, your mother will spare you to-day."