"Serve you right for having a headache when I left," said Janet. "According to Herbert Spencer, if I went out for a drive by myself every time you had one, your headaches would soon disappear."
"Mine has gone already. Show me all you bought, Janski. May I open the parcels?"
"Yes, one by one."
For Henriette was recklessly attacking strings and wrappers, to the great peril of the contents.
Among the parcels undid was one containing a book.
She read out the title: "Tom, Dick and Harry."
"What's this?"
"That's a book of light reading for a young lady well advanced in the English language."
Henriette had taken to English as a duck takes to water. After a year of continuous practice, she spoke it well; and read or wrote it passably.
"Oh, it isn't a girl's book, is it?" she said, dubiously, and scanning the title again in the light of Janet's words.