“So do I,” said Winifred wisely. “She can’t help but know how he adores Mrs. Gareth-Lawless because she’s so lovely. He pays for all her pretty clothes. It’s silly of her to be jealous—like a baby.”
Robin sometimes read newspapers, though she liked books better. Newspapers were not forbidden her. She been reading an enthralling book and had not seen a paper for some days. She at once searched for one and, finding it, sat down and found also the Thorpe Divorce Case. It was not difficult of discovery, as it filled the principal pages with dramatic evidence and amazing revelations.
Dowson saw her bending over the spread sheets, hot-eyed and intense in her concentration.
“What are you reading, my love?” she asked.
The little flaming face lifted itself. It was unhappy, obstinate, resenting. It wore no accustomed child look and Dowson felt rather startled.
“I’m reading the Thorpe Divorce Case, Dowie,” she answered deliberately and distinctly.
Dowie came close to her.
“It’s an ugly thing to read, my lamb,” she faltered. “Don’t you read it. Such things oughtn’t to be allowed in newspapers. And you’re a little girl, my own dear.” Robin’s elbow rested firmly on the table and her chin firmly in her hand. Her eyes were not like a bird’s.
“I’m nearly thirteen,” she said. “I’m growing up. Nobody can stop themselves when they begin to grow up. It makes them begin to find out things. I want to ask you something, Dowie.”
“Now, lovey—!” Dowie began with tremor. Both she and Mademoiselle had been watching the innocent “growing up” and fearing a time would come when the widening gaze would see too much. Had it come as soon as this?