But I am digressing again. I was waiting, then, for him to come to his room. I lolled down on the bed while Carrover continued to study.
In a few moments we heard DeVare’s step, and he came into the room.
“Well,” I said, rising up on one elbow, “I have been waiting for you a long time. Now, tell who was that superb woman you were riding with this afternoon, and where does she live? My heart is hers eternally. I’ll vow, Ramie, I never saw as much beauty done up in one bundle before.”
DeVare frowned his brows at me and motioned his head towards Carrover, but as I thought he meant I would disturb him, I lowered my voice and went on:
“Please tell me about her, Ramie. I know you love her. You couldn’t be with her and not love her. Promise me you’ll take me to see her and I’ll hush, and let Charlie get his lesson.”
I looked at Charlie as I spoke and found him still intent on his page, but smiling peculiarly, as if there was something ridiculous in Blackstone.
“By the way, Charlie,” said DeVare, as if my question was forgotten, “what do you think of the case for the Moot Court to-morrow evening?”
“I had not given it much thought,” said Carrover, going to the bookcase for a volume; “what was the statement of facts?”
“Oh, bother the Moot Court,” I said, getting off the bed, I’m on another kind of court now. Tell me about the girl, DeVare, and I’ll leave you and Carrover to your old, dry discussions.”