“Faix, it takes a long while to know people,” rejoined the other, in her soft, musical drawl.
“But in my case I become an intimate, or an enemy, within the first half-hour.”
“Faix, then, I hope you won’t become my enemy.”
“No—though of course I ought to, after your turning up, and giving me the back seat!”
Joseline became crimson, and looked uncomfortable and distressed.
“Bar jokes! I mean to do you a good turn, and tell you things.”
“I’ll be thankful to you, for I’m as ignorant as a young crow. What sort of things?”
“Family news, family politics, family secrets that you would take ages to discover. Also I’ll be your child’s guide and adviser—for though I expect you are only a couple of years younger than I am, I am old enough in worldly ways to be your grandmother. You call me Tito, of course.”
“Yes, of course. And your mother; what am I to call her?”