“Bless you! They're all thought about. A family feud? It's like the Bible, or Mark Twain—awfully exciting. What did you do in the feud, Father?”
“Never you mind.”
“Oh! But if I'm to keep it up?”
“Who said you were to keep it up?”
“You, darling.”
“I? I said it had nothing to do with you.”
“Just what I think, you know; so that's all right.”
She was too sharp for him; fine, as Annette sometimes called her. Nothing for it but to distract her attention.
“There's a bit of rosaline point in here,” he said, stopping before a shop, “that I thought you might like.”
When he had paid for it and they had resumed their progress, Fleur said: