"No, madam."
"Are you glad you are going into the country and away from the hot, dirty city?"
"No, madam."
"Would you rather stay here?"
"No, madam."
The quality of the negative was the same in all.
Miss Clarkson gave him up. When they entered the car she sank into a depressed silence, which endured until they reached the Grand Central Station. There, after she had sent off several telegrams and bought their tickets, and established herself and her charge comfortably side by side on the end seat in a drawing-room car, she again essayed sprightly conversation adapted to the understanding of the young.
"Do you know the country, Ivan?" she asked, ingratiatingly. "Have you ever been there to see the grass and the cows and the blue skies?"
"No, madam."
"You will like them very much. All little boys and girls like the country, and are very happy there."