‘Then he’s a rocky old reprobate.’
‘Oh Christopher!’ she said, helplessly.
It was the first time she had called him that, and it came out now as a cry, half of rebuke, half of horrified amusement; but in whatever form it came out the great thing to his enchanted ears was that it had got out, for from that to Chris would be an easy step.
‘Well, so he is. He shouldn’t at that age. He should pray.’
‘Oh Christopher!’ cried Catherine again. ‘But she loves him too.’
‘Then she’s a nasty girl,’ said Christopher stoutly; and after staring at him a moment she went off into a fit of laughter, and laughed in the heavenly way he had already seen her laugh once before—yes, that was over Stephen too—so it was; Stephen seemed a sure draw—with complete abandonment, till she had to pull out her handkerchief to wipe her eyes.
‘I don’t mind your crying that sort of tears,’ said Christopher benignly, ‘but I won’t have any others.’
‘Oh,’ said Catherine, trying to recover, diligently wiping her eyes, ‘oh, you’re so funny—you’ve no idea how funny——’
‘I can be funnier than that,’ said Christopher proudly, delighted that he could make her laugh.
‘Oh, don’t be—don’t be—I couldn’t bear it. I haven’t laughed like this since—I can’t remember when. Not for years, anyhow.’