“I don’t,” whispered Deb piteously. “I stop where I am.”
“Then—run!” with an imperious stamp of the strapped and booted foot. “You little Oriental!”
“As if they were our natural enemies? perpetual hunters? It seems so silly and self-conscious.” Nevertheless she recognized Antonia’s spirit poised for flight, and applauded it—the spirit of a juvenile athlete.... It really had been a proceeding rather without purpose, to remain at Seaview. Antonia never did things without purpose. “I love you in gauntlets and puttees, Antonia.”
The General’s chaffeuse laughed at the flattery. “By the way, did Zoe say Timothy had been ’phoning her?”
“Little Tim Fawcett? Yes, I believe she mentioned him—it was rather swamped in a lurid story about a post-office clerk.”
“Take on Timothy—yes, you. I’m not keen on Zoe’s influence there. He’s such a serious baby, and he’ll idealize her.”
“He might also idealize me. Besides, I’m not going to ‘take on’ anybody. You’ve just been bullying me about it. My soul henceforth shall pace apart among narrow aisles of lilies——”
“Tiger-lilies?”
They were at the door of the house in St John’s Wood now. The maid admitted them, and Antonia, passing her, called out: “Come straight through into the studio, Deb.”
“Please, Miss Antonia, Miss Sherwood is there, waiting for you.”