“Mine—anyhow.”
“And you came away?”
“Well! What do you think?”
“H’m,” said Lambone. “You have barked your shins, Christina Alberta! More than I thought.”
“Oh, Hell take Teddy!” said Christina Alberta, putting it on a bit and helping herself by being noisy. “What does that matter now? I’ve done with Teddy. I was a fool. Never mind that. The thing is my Daddy. What am I to do about my Daddy?”
“Well, first you’ve got to tell me all about it,” said Lambone. “Because at present, you know, I’ve hardly got the hang of the trouble. And before you do that you sit down in that easy chair and I make the tea. No, not you. Your nerves are on edge and you’ll upset something. You’ve been having your first dose of adult worry. Sit down there and don’t say anything for a minute. I’m glad you came along to me. Very glad.... I liked that Daddy of yours really. Little innocent-eyed man he was. Blue eyes. And he was talking—what nonsense was he talking? About the Lost Atlantis. But it was quite nice nonsense.... No, don’t interrupt. Just let me recall my own impression of him until you’ve had your tea.”
§ 3
When the tea was made and Christina Alberta had sipped a cup and looked more comfortable, Lambone, who felt he was managing things beautifully, told her she might begin.
“He’s getting queer in his mind, but you know that he isn’t really going out of his mind,” said Lambone. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“That is it,” said Christina Alberta. “You see—” She paused.