“That’s one point of view, of course,” he said slowly; “but how do you know I want to have her more with me? She’s very young and strong. I expect she’d be exciting, and it wouldn’t be at all good for me to be excited.
“Besides, she has no sense of humor. I wouldn’t dream of asking her to laugh at my jokes as I do you. She wouldn’t see them, and then I shouldn’t like to show her the improper ones. They’re not suitable for ladies, and the improper ones are the best. I sometimes think you can’t have a really good joke unless it’s improper.”
Winn did not say anything; but he thought that however limited Mrs. Bouncing’s sense of humor might be, she would have enjoyed the improper ones.
Mr. Bouncing took out his thermometer.
“It is five minutes,” he said, “since I’ve had the glass of milk, and I think my tongue must have cooled down by now. So I shall take my temperature, and after that I shall try to go to sleep. But I don’t believe you are really anxious about my wife; what you’re worried about is young Rivers. I’ve seen you taking him for walks, and it’s no use your worrying about him, because, as I’ve said before, he’s silly. If he didn’t do one silly thing, he’d do another. However, he’s selfish, too. That’s always something; he won’t be so likely to come to grief as if he were merely silly. It’s his sister I should be worried about if I were you.”
“Why?” asked Winn without looking at him. Mr. Bouncing looked at Winn, but he made no answer. He had already got his thermometer in his mouth.
CHAPTER XV
Winn had a feeling that he ought to keep away from her, but Davos was an inconvenient place for keeping away. People were always turning up when one least expected them, or one turned up oneself. Privacy and publicity flashed together in the sunny air. Even going off up a mountain with a book was hardly the resource it seemed; friends skied or tobogganed down upon you from the top, and carried you off to tea.
Winn had an uneasy feeling that he oughtn’t to go every morning to the rink, though that was naturally the place for a man who was only allowed to skate to find himself. It was also the place where he could not fail to find Claire. There were a good many other skaters on the rink, too; they were all preparing for the International Skating Competition.
The English, as a rule, stuck to their own rink, where they had a style of skating belonging to themselves. Their style was perpendicular and very stiff; it was by no means easy to attain, and when attained, hardly perhaps, to the observer, worth the efforts expended. Winn approved of it highly. He thought it a smart and sensible way to skate, and was by no means a bad exponent; but once he had seen Claire skating on the big rink, he put aside his abortive circling round an orange. It is difficult to concentrate upon being a ramrod when every instinct in you desires to chase a swallow. She wore, when she skated, a short, black velvet skirt, white fox furs, and a white fur cap. One couldn’t very well miss seeing her. It did not seem to Winn as if she skated at all. She skimmed from her seat into the center of her chosen corner, and then looked about her, balanced in the air. When she began to skate he could not tell whether the band was playing or not, because he felt as if she always moved to music.