"About Father?" She looked at him in alarm. "Is there anything the matter with Father?"
Without turning his head, he glanced at her keenly out of the corner of his eye. It was a trick of his which always irritated her because it reminded her of the sly and furtive side of his character.
"You've a pretty good opinion of the old man, haven't you, Patty?"
"I think he is the greatest man in the world."
"And you wouldn't like him to run against a snag, would you?"
"What do you mean? Has anything happened to worry him?"
He had stopped just beyond the nearest side entrance to the Square, and he stood now, with his eyes on the automobiles before the City Hall, while he fingered thoughtfully the ornamental scarf-pin in his green and purple tie. "There's always more or less to worry him, ain't there?"
She frowned impatiently. "Not Father. He is hardly ever anything but cheerful. Please tell me what you are hinting."
"I wasn't hinting. But, if you don't mind talking to me a minute, suppose we get away from these confounded cars."
He turned east, following the iron fence of the Square until they reached the high grass bank and the old box hedge which surrounded the garden at the back of the Governor's house. At the corner of the street, which sank far below the garden terrace, he stopped again and laid a restraining hand on her arm.