"I—er—read it fairly well."
"Parlez-vous Francais?"
"Oh, oui! Oui!"
"Allors." And there followed, in undertones, a short, spirited conversation in the Gallic.
Gwendolyn made a silent resolution to devote more time and thought to the peevish and staccato instruction of Miss Du Bois.
The two were interrupted by a light, quick step outside. Again the hall door opened.
"Oh, you'll pardon my having to desert you, won't you?" It was Gwendolyn's mother. "I didn't intend being so long."
Gwendolyn half-started forward, then stopped.
"Why, of course!"—with sounds of rising.
"Certainly!"