“Why do you say that?”
“Just because he is what he is. Some people have to be helped; they can’t get up unless they are helped. But there are others—and Philip is one of them—who have to fight their way back the best they can, alone. It’s hard to think of it that way, for a—for a friend. But it is true.”
Bromley forced himself to smile.
“You are a very wise little woman, much wiser than your years call for. But see here—you’re not eating enough to keep a kitten alive. How do you expect to be able to work if you don’t eat?”
“I’m not as hungry as I thought I was. It’s the hot weather, maybe.”
“Couldn’t you eat another cream puff if I should order it?”
“No, thank you. Besides, my time is up. I know it isn’t nice to eat and run, but if you will invite a working girl out to luncheon, you’ll have to take the consequences.”
He walked back to the door of the millinery shop with her and at the moment of parting she said, “You’ll be gentle with Philip when you find him, won’t you? It won’t do any good to be the other way.”
“I shall take him by the neck,” he threatened good-naturedly, adding: “He’s old enough and man enough to have better sense.” Then: “I’m going to be fearfully busy this afternoon. Do you suppose Mysie could pack my grip for me if I should send a messenger after it with a note?”
“Mysie would be dreadfully humbled if she could hear you ask such a thing as that,” she smiled. “She isn’t the child you seem to persist in believing her to be. She will be sixteen in a few days. How long do you think you will be away?”