“‘Comparisons are odious,’ Maurice. This is perfect and nothing can exceed perfection, you know.”
Maurice had put Ann in the front seat, tucking Suzanne in behind with robes galore. Climbing in beside Ann, he made sure that she had the robes well up around her before he started his stamping team. “Look here, Ann,” said he. “I found an old buffalo robe up in the attic, and pleased Grandmother almost to death by bringing it down. It was all done up in moth-balls and things,—what makes you laugh?”
“Its being ‘done up in’ moth-balls.”
“You are too recently in the thralls of some English class, Ann!”
“Bunny, you know!”
“Ah, yes; I’ve heard of her, I believe.”
Ann patted the robe, which was on top of the others. “Think what good times Grandfather and Grandmother had riding around with this!”
“Yes, and I hope that we shall have just as good times.”
Maurice did not look at Ann as he said this, but he drew the robes around her, with an unnecessary care, and gave rein to the pretty blacks.
“I adore black horses,” said Ann. “That is the only drawback to Zep. But Zep’s character makes up for his lacking the ‘coal-black’ color I wanted. You can’t have everything at once.”