Jeanne laughed. Allen had hoped that she would. It was a nice laugh, quite different from Harold's teasing one.
At the park, Jeanne had another embarrassing moment when Clara maliciously pointed out the tree that Jeanne had climbed; but Allen had pretended not to hear. Harold, who had carried an umbrella because Pearl had insisted, slashed the shrubbery with it and used it to prod the animals. He annoyed the rabbits, tormented the parrots, the sea lion, and finally the monkeys.
"Quit it," said Allen.
"You're a sissy," retorted Harold, unpleasantly.
"No, I'm not. Men don't torment animals."
"Harold always does," said Pearl.
"It's hard enough to live in a cage," said Jeanne, "without being poked. There! Mr. Monkey has torn your umbrella."
"Little brute!" snarled Harold, aiming a deadly thrust at the small offender. "I'll teach you—"
Allen wrenched the umbrella from his angry cousin. "Let me carry it," said he. "There's a guard coming and you might get into trouble."
Allen's visit lasted for only five days. Jeanne was sorry that he couldn't stay for five years. He respected her father. If that had been his only admirable trait, Jeanne would have liked him.