“Miss Watts gave me your message.”
“Message?”
“That you would meet me here. By the way, Pollock, your mother asked me to say that something important came for ye in the morning mails. She wants ye at once.”
With a firm and masterly hand he detached Percy and sent him off. Then he turned to Isabelle.
“Ye can play tricks on Percy and your other youngsters, but not on me.”
“I haven’t the slightest interest in playing tricks on you,” she answered. She sat down, opened a parasol, and planted it in the sand. He threw himself down beside her.
“You are a very interesting little girl,” he remarked, “but you have a great deal to learn.”
“Teach me!” she exclaimed, with such ingenuous enthusiasm that he was at a loss to know whether she was making fun of him or not.
“I will. First, you mustn’t be so pricklish.”
“It’s the only way to protect yourself.”