Whyland looked askant at Abner. "Yes, yes, I know," he almost seemed to be saying. "But who can tell if a helping hand, extended at the critical moment, might not have…."
XXII
"Is that her? Is that her?" asked the children, the nursery door ajar.
"Yes, that is 'her,'" said their mother, as Medora, muffled in white and with her violin-case under her arm, slipped along through the hall.
"How soon is she going to play? And won't you please let us hear just one piece, mamma?"
"You may lean over the banister. But if you let anybody catch you at it——"
"How soon is she going to begin?"
"Not for some time yet."
"Oh-h! Then won't you bring her in so that——"
"'Sh! 'sh! And shut the door."