“Are they for me?” she said, with false brightness. “Thank you.”
James Houghton looked over the top of his spectacles, searchingly, at the flowers, as if they had been a bunch of white and sharp-toothed ferrets. Then he looked as suspiciously at the hand which Albert at last extended to him. He shook it slightly, and said:
“Take a seat.”
“I’m afraid I’m disturbing you in your reading,” said Albert, still having the drawn, excited smile on his face.
“Well—” said James Houghton. “The light is fading.”
Alvina came in with the flowers in a jar. She set them on the table.
“Haven’t they a lovely scent?” she said.
“Do you think so?” he replied, again with the excited smile. There was a pause. Albert, rather embarrassed, reached forward, saying:
“May I see what you’re reading!” And he turned over the book. “‘Tommy and Grizel!’ Oh yes! What do you think of it?”
“Well,” said James, “I am only in the beginning.”