“Mr Claverton,” she said. “Do you know I’ve been feeling quite ashamed of myself all day?”
“What about?” asked her companion.
“Why, for sending you after those wretched flowers this morning—I didn’t mean you to get hurt, you know; of course I thought you would easily be able to run away.”
“I see. But running away isn’t altogether in my line—I don’t mean under any circumstances—those who declaim most against the lawfulness of leg-bail at a push are generally the ones most prone to putting it to the test. In fact, I don’t mind telling you that I have ‘run away’ before now, having no alternative.”
“When I saw that dreadful creature coming at you, I declare I would have given anything not to have sent you in there. It was horrible.” And she shivered. “Do forgive me.”
“But I assure you the whole affair was fun to me. Keeps one in training for emergencies. Only—”
“Only what?”
“Only that I don’t know whether your uncle quite likes his prize ostrich being made the subject of a bull-fight.”
“And—we are friends?”
“I hope so.”