“You have far more occasion to be glad than angry,” he said, “but it is hardly likely you will see it yet. By and by—say in five years’ time—you will understand. At present you do not know your world.”
“Nothing will change my estimate of you,” she answered cuttingly. “I wish Miss Gwendoline, what’s-her-name—Carew, joy of her bargain.”
“Now we are descending to personalities,” with a fine sneer, “so perhaps I had better depart.”
“A most excellent notion, O Theophilus!” tossing her small head.
A gleam of admiration came unbidden to his eyes.
“You’re good stuff, Paddy,” he said, almost under his breath. “I like your fieryness uncommon well.”
“That is how I like your absence,” came quick as lightning.
“Well, good-by,” and he held out his hand.
She put hers behind her, with unmistakable meaning.
He shrugged his shoulders expressively, and turned away.