"I can't help that. He's here, settin' in the liberry."
"Dear me!" said Bambi. "Say I'll be down at once. Wait! Help me to get into my gray gown before you go."
"You look all right de way you is."
"No, no. This man lives in New York, Ardelia. He's used to real clothes."
"I wish he'd stay in New York."
"What's the matter with Mr. Strong? I thought you liked him!"
"He's gettin' too frequentious round here, to suit me."
"You silly thing, we have business to talk over. Hurry on, now, and say I'll be down in a minute."
Ardelia lumbered out, disapproval in every inch of her back.
Richard Strong turned away from the log fire at the sound of Bambi's footsteps running down the stairs. The soft gray gown clung to her, and floated behind her, its ashen monotone making her face more vivid than ever. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes looked gray-green in the shadowy room, with the deep, shining fire of opals. Both hands went out to his impulsive greeting.