“You have me there!” And he smiled despite himself. The smile lit up the face under the aureole of red hair—it seemed to Jinny a sudden glimpse, through a rift of Time, of the boy she had known. “All the same,” he protested, “if I had a horn, I could learn it in an hour.”
“Well, get one,” said Jinny.
“Where can I get one?” he retorted fretfully.
“Dearie! Your tea——!” It was Martha herself now.
“Oh, I’d get you one,” said Jinny carelessly, “but I’ll wager you won’t blow it properly in a week, much less an hour!”
“A week! What nonsense! In a moment.”
“In a moment?”
“I was speaking to mother. What’ll you wager?”
“A pair of gloves,” said Jinny.
“Done!” said Will.