“I don’t want it! The string has cut my fingers. I carried it all the way up the hill. Set it down.”
“I beg your—set it down, I believe you said?” He put the bandbox on the floor, directly between them, in the middle of the room. “As I was about to relate, my cousin has....”
“Not there—to be stepped on! Set it under the table.”
“Oh, to be sure! Yes. How odd I didn’t think of the table! My cousin....”
“Give me my bag again. I need it.”
“To be sure!” He bowed and handed her the desired object. She pulled it open, took out a handkerchief, dabbed at her nose, put the handkerchief back and handed the bag again to Howard, who was receiving and surrendering her property mechanically now.
“My cousin has revealed....”
She saw his embarrassment and his anxiety to conciliate her and she scorned them.
“Well, I hope she has invented some sort of a story that people can believe. That’s all I ask of her. As the mother of Corinne, I think I have the right to ask that.”
He dropped her bag on the bandbox and began eagerly.