“Not at all—very glad to get a breath of fresh air.”
And he stealthily tightened his white waistcoat—a rite neglected of late; the garment seemed to him at the moment unnecessarily loose.
“You have so much experience, Uncle. Do you think violent rebellion is ever justifiable?”
“I do not.”
Nedda sighed. “I'm glad you think that,” she murmured, “because I don't think it is, either. I do so want you to like Derek, Uncle John, because—it's a secret from nearly every one—he and I are engaged.”
John jerked his head up a little, as though he had received a slight blow. The news was not palatable. He kept his form, however, and answered:
“Oh! Really! Ah!”
Nedda said still more softly: “Please don't judge him by the other night; he wasn't very nice then, I know.”
John cleared his throat.
Instinct warned her that he agreed, and she said rather sadly: