"I shall be quite happy here, Clem. I have much to think of and plan; and, of course, I'll mind Cinthie. Be off now."
Poppy hustled her into her cloak and laces and saw them both off into the rickshaw. Afterwards she returned to the drawing-room, poured out her coffee, and took it into the nursery. Cinthie's little straight, white bed stood in the centre of the room, and she was lying with the sheet drawn up to her chin, two long pigtails stretching down on either side of her, and two big, dark eyes glooming out of the little, soft, dark face. Beside her on the pillow two still, inanimate forms glared glazily at the ceiling.
"Cinthie!"
"Eum!"
"Hallo, Cinthie!"
"Hallo!"
"You asleep?"
"No, not yet."
"Sure you're not?"
"No, I'm not, Poppy." She sat up in bed and gave a lively prance to show she was awake.