Ina looked at the damage, and from it to his face of contrition. "You did it on purpose," she said.
"I did not," said Piers.
"You're very rude," she rejoined.
"No, I'm not," he protested. "I'm sorry. I hope you didn't value it for any particular reason. I'll send you another from Paris."
She spurned the broken thing with a careless gesture. "Not you! You'd be afraid to."
Piers' brows went up. "Afraid?"
"Of your grandfather," she said, with a derisive smile. "If he caught you sending anything to me—or to the lady of the meadow—" she paused eloquently.
Piers looked grim. "Of course I shall send you a fan if you'll accept it."
"How nice of you!" said Ina. "Wouldn't you like to send something for her in the same parcel? I'll deliver it for you—if you'll tell me the lady's address."
Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she made the suggestion. Piers frowned yet a moment longer, then laughed back with abrupt friendliness.