“Tell me exactly how there’s nothing wrong, Holly? I knew your lights were slightly dimmed. How you show your feelings!” Rod laughed with satisfaction in this proof of their intimacy, that he could instantly discern Cicely’s moods.
“Caught me that time! But it’s nothing, truly. That old code bothers me; never tackled anything else that wouldn’t stay by me over night! The alphabet is ridiculous; little scriggles going one way, crossed by little scriggles going the other way—and they’d all look exactly as well, or as crazy!—reversed! I get to wondering why they don’t go the other way about, and then I can’t remember which way they do go! But of course I’ll get them fastened down soon; it’s not worth bothering over, Rory, my pal.” Cis beamed on Rodney, liking his sympathy.
“Rory?” queried Rodney.
“Sure-ly! Rory O’Moore, don’t you know? That’s really your name; it came to me this morning while I was getting ready to go out!” Cis laughed softly.
“Oh, by jiminy, Cis, I don’t care what you call me if you’ll think of me so frequently. It means I’m getting on the inside!” Rodney’s delight was unmistakable. “Are you Kathleen bawn?”
Cis shook her head. “Why?” she asked, then blushed fiercely as the words of the old song came to her: “Rory O’Moore courted Kathleen bawn.”
Before she was called upon to speak, just as Rodney murmured:
“Rory O’Moore courted Kathleen bawn:
He was bold as the day, she as fair as the morn,”
an extraordinarily handsome girl, sumptuously dressed, beyond the strict propriety of a walking costume, swung around the corner which they were about to cross and almost ran into Cicely and Rodney.