"I wish he had not put in tobacco," scowled Mrs. Adlerfeld. "There are a many things better as tobacco."
"You have not tried it," he returned. "Stevenson knew because he had tried it."
The little woman shook her head decidedly. "I have been suffered a many times by tobacco." Then a smile broke mischievously. "You may smoke after dinner, Mr. Randolph."
The man laughed. "I was not pleading for myself," he protested. "This is sufficiently soothing—" His hand made a comprehensive sweep. "Tobacco would be superfluous."
Miss Sterling had risen and gone over to the lunch-box, where she was trying to open a second thermos bottle.
"Let me do that for you!" He sprang to help her.
She stepped back heedlessly, her foot slipped, and with a sharp cry she fell on the smooth slope.
Polly and Mr. Randolph reached her together.
"Are you hurt?" Polly's voice was distressed.
"Any damage done?" The man's tone was cheery, yet concerned.