“I don’t. Why should I? It can’t harm me.” Her hint of a pout made her mouth entrancing. “But, if she thinks good looks are the result of religiousness I should like to let her see Robin—and compare her with her boy. I saw Robin in the park last week and she’s a perfect beauty.”
“Last week?” said Coombe.
“She doesn’t need anyone but Andrews. I should bore her to death if I went and sat in the Nursery and stared at her. No one does that sort of thing in these days. But I should like to see Mrs. Muir to see the two children together!”
“That could not easily be arranged, I am afraid,” he said.
“Why not?”
His answer was politely deliberate.
“She greatly disapproves of me, I have told you. She is not proud of the relationship.”
“She does not like me you mean?”
“Excuse me. I mean exactly what I said in telling you that she has her own very strong views of the boy’s training and surroundings. They may be ridiculous but that sort of thing need not trouble you.”
Feather held up her hand and actually laughed.