"You threw yourself out of the window!" she is interrupted horrified.
Sam laughed. "Oh, well, I wasn't successful: I continued to live. Unfortunately my trousers caught on the grape trellis under the window, and there I hung! It must have been pretty funny—though I didn't think so at the time. First place, I tore my wrist on a nail—that's the scar; and then father caught me and sent me to bed for being a fool; so I didn't gain anything." His lip drooped. His feeling for his father was a candid mixture of amusement and contempt.
"But do you always act on the spur of the moment?" she said astonished.
Sam laughed and said he supposed so. "I am a good deal of a fool," he added simply.
"Well," she said sighing, "it's dangerous to be like that. I know, because I—I am a good deal of a fool myself." Then again, abruptly, she changed the subject. "What do you think? I'm going to have some company!"
Sam frowned. "Your brother?"
"No, oh no; not—Mr. Pryor." Then she told him that Dr. Lavendar had asked her if she would look after a little boy for him for a few weeks.
Sam was not responsive. Little boys were a great deal of trouble, he said.
"Come now; how long since—"
Sam's limpid deer's-eyes reproached her silently.