“Very well, my dear.”
Wynnette vanished.
Mr. Force sat down in the large armchair.
Le stood at the window and stared out at nothing whatever.
Jonah, in a clean white apron, and the official towel thrown over his arm, came in, offered Mr. Force the Angleton Advertiser, and then began to pull and stretch the perfectly smooth tablecloth this way and that to show his zeal.
Presently he went out, and Wynnette returned to the room.
She glanced around, and, seeing no one present but her two companions, drew a chair to her father’s side, threw herself into it and exclaimed:
“Oh, papa! I have been aching and burning and throbbing to tell you something, but could not get a chance, because that man was always present, and I was afraid he might inform on us and get us arrested, and I didn’t know what the penalty might be—imprisonment and penal servitude, perhaps. But, for all that, I am delighted—perfectly beside myself with delight!”
“What are you talking of, Wynnette, my dear?”
“Here comes that man again. We must be cautious, though I could dance in triumph,” said Wynnette.