Jack laughed aloud.
“You dear, sweet, little girl!” he said, recklessly and with fervour. “You say such quaint, funny things! Diogenes was an old horror, of course!—and really, if you would only see him as he is, so is your—”
She held up a warning finger.
“Now, Jack! He’s not as bad as Diogenes! No! You can’t say that! It’s true that he’s often rude—and very indifferent to the happiness of others—and rough—and unkind—”
“To you!” cried Jack in sudden excitement.
“Well!—perhaps—sometimes! But I don’t mind!”
“I do!” declared Jack, with uncommon emphasis. “Let me catch him at it! Let me catch him, I say!—he’s years older than I am,—but I’ll—I’ll knock him down!”
She peeped at him from under the brim of her hat.
“You are a dear boy!” she said, patronisingly. “But you mustn’t think of such a thing!”