Dempster said something between his teeth which I tried my best not to hear; then off he went down the pavement, looking as if he would give the world to knock some one down. By and by he came back, panting like a mad dog.
"Anything more!" says he, savage as a jack-knife, wiping his face with a white pocket-handkerchief.
"Yes, dear," says E. E.; "I'm afraid I left my parasol—just run up and see."
Dempster went, and came down with the parasol in his hand.
She took it, and got into the carriage. I followed, and "that child" dived in after me. Dempster had his foot on the step, when E. E. broke out again:
"Oh, darling, what shall I do?—Snip has been left behind. I think you will find her in the bath-room."
Dempster dashed the handkerchief across his face, ran up the steps in desperate haste, and by and by came out with E. E.'s little black dog in his arms.
E. E. reached out her arms, but Cecilia snatched it from her father. That moment a policeman went by, and E. E. leaned through the carriage window.
"Why, Dempster, you have forgotten to see the policeman."
Dempster followed the man, diving one hand down into his pocket. I saw him draw out some money, which the man took; then poor Dempster came back on a run, and plunged into the carriage.