“Grace, you are worse than Captain Palairet,” said Eppie, whose eyes were firmly fixed on the neat leather back of the chauffeur in front of them.
“Don’t be cross, Eppie. Why should you mind my prattle?”
“Because I care for him so much.”
“Well, that’s what I say.”
“No; not as I mean it.”
“He of course cares, as I mean it.”
Eppie did not pause over this.
“It’s something different, quite different, from anything else in the world. It can’t be talked about like that. Please, Grace, never, never be like Captain Palairet again. You haven’t softening of the brain. I shall lose Gavan if my friends and his father have such delusions too openly.”
XI
