"Present!" said Jacky—and made a joyous grab at the horn, which he immediately put to his lips; but before it could emit its ear-piercing screech, Maurice struck it down.
"Where are your manners? Say 'Thank you' to the lady."
Jacky sighed, but murmured, "'Ank you."
Eleanor, her chin trembling, said: "May I kiss him?"
"'Course," Maurice said, huskily.
She bent down and kissed him with trembling lips—"Ach!—you make me all wet," Jacky said, frowning at her tears on his rosy cheek.
Later, as Maurice pulled his reluctant son out on to the pavement, he was so moved that he almost forgot that she was still the old Eleanor; he didn't even listen to his little boy's passionate assertion that he would be a flying-trapeze man. As he walked along beside his wife to put her on the car he spoke with great tenderness:
"I'll leave him at Lily's, and then I'll come right home, dear, and we'll talk things over."
When he and his son got back to Maple Street, Jacky was blowing that infernal horn so that the whole neighborhood was aware of his ecstasy. Lily, waiting for them at the gate, put her hands over her ears.
"My soul and body! For the land's sake, stop! Who give you that horrid thing?"