Spinks could have have replied in Byron's fashion that if he laughed 'twas that he might not weep, but he restrained himself; and all he said was, "I like to see you larf."
"Well, you can't say you've ever seen me cry."
"No, I haven't. I shouldn't like to see that, Flossie. And I shouldn't like to be the one that made you."
"Wouldn't you?" Flossie put her pocket handkerchief to her little nose, and under the corner of it there peeped the tail-end of a lurking smile.
"No," said Spinks simply, "I wouldn't." He was thinking of Miss Roots. The theory of Rickman's bad behaviour had never entered his head. "What's more, I don't think any nice person would do it."
"Don't you?"
"No. Not any really nice person."
"It's generally," said Flossie, sweetly meditative, "the nicest person you know who can make you cry most. Not that I'm crying."
"No. But I can see that somebody's been annoying you, and I think I can guess pretty well who it is, too. Nothing would please me more than to 'ave five minutes' private conversation with that person." He was thinking of Miss Harden now.
"You mustn't dream of it. It wouldn't do, you know; it really wouldn't. Look here, promise me you'll never say a word."