"No, wonderful!" sighed she, laying her hand on my drooping shoulder. "I—I liked you for it! You weren't afraid this time. Did he hurt you?"
"Not much."
"And he tore your fine new coat—the beast! Never mind, I'll mend it for you to-night, if you like."
"I can buy another," said I gloomily.
"No, that would be wicked, wasteful extravagance, Peregrine, and I can mend it beautifully."
"Very well!" I sighed.
"That's three times you fights for me, Peregrine."
"And been worsted on each occasion!" said I.
"No, you beats Gabbing Dick, remember," said she consolingly, her hand on my shoulder again. "And I—I likes you in your new clothes, though I wish you had your curls back again because—"
"How came you at the inn with that man?" I demanded suddenly.