She was held by his trouble, but she spoke lightly. "Could he swim with us both across the Channel? No, I don't think I want to come tonight. Some day—"
"When?"
"Oh," she said on a high note, "perhaps when I'm very tired of things."
"You're tired already."
"Not so much as that. And we're talking nonsense, and I must go."
"Not yet."
"I must. It's nearly time for bed, and I'm not sure that it's polite of you to sit on that horse while I stand here."
"Come up and you'll see how well he goes."
"He wouldn't bear us both."
"Pooh! You're a feather."