“No, he didn’t! I paid for him and myself as well! But that was nothing!”
“Nothing?” Jack gave a short grunt of disgust. “No, it was nothing in the way of expenditure but it was something in the way of character! How he could let you pay! How you could pay for him!”
Her pretty dimples came into play again.
“Oh, well! He was very funny about it. He said he felt like a little boy being taken out by his governess for a treat. He really has a sense of humour!”
“I’m sure he has!” spluttered Jack. “By Jove! I should say he found it ‘humorous’ in the highest degree to have a woman pay for him! Suit him down to the ground!”
She stretched her rounded white arms above her head and gave a tiny yawn.
“Dear Jack, you are really exhausting!” she said. “Let’s talk of something else. Look at that dear little moor-hen!”
He followed her gaze and watched the dainty little bird breasting its way across the shining river, then said, moodily:
“I suppose he’s really a fixture just now?”
“The Philosopher? Oh, I hope not! He’s just staying with Dad. They’re doing a book together.”