"Why does nobody say, 'Dear kind Mr. Willes, do be nice, and sing us something'?" Adrian plaintively inquired.
Anthony grasped the skirts of happy chance.
"Dear kind Mr. Willes, do be nice, and sing us something," he said at once.
"I 'll play your accompaniments," volunteered Miss Sandus.
And she and the songster went into the drawing-room.
"Thank heaven," said Anthony, under his breath, but fervently, gazing hard at Susanna.
She gave a little laugh.
"What are you laughing at?" he asked.
"At your sudden access of piety," said she.
"At any rate," said he, "I owe no thanks to you. For all you cared, apparently, we should have spent the whole of this last precious evening surrounded by strangers."