"I get precious little for my money," remarked Naomi, pertinently, "if I have to do the filling in for myself!"
Engelhardt had been striding to and fro. Now he stopped pityingly in front of the chair in which this sweet Philistine was sitting unashamed.
"Do you mean to say that you like to have every little thing told you in black and white?"
"Of course I do. The more the better."
"And absolutely nothing left to your own imagination?"
"Certainly not. The idea!"
He turned away from her with a shrug of his shoulders, and quickened his stride up and down the veranda. He was visibly annoyed. She watched him with eyes full of glee.
"I do love to make you lose your wool!" she informed him in a minute or two, with a sudden attack of candor. "I like you best when you give me up and wash your hands of me!"
This cleared his brow instantaneously, and brought him back to her chair with a smile.
"Why so, Miss Pryse?"