“I’m coming to see you to-morrow night. May I?”
I nodded, and then I said:
“You mustn’t mind our house. We’re awfully poor people.” I wanted to prepare him. He laughed boyishly at that and said:
“Good heavens, that’s nothing. So are most of my folks—poor as church mice. As far as that goes, I’m jolly poor myself. Haven’t a red cent except what the governor sends out to me. I’m going to see you anyway, and not your house.”
He looked back at the driver whose head was all muffled up under his fur collar. Then he said:
“Will you give me that kiss now?”
I returned faintly:
“I c-can’t. I think Ada’s watching from the window.”
He looked up quickly.
“Who’s Ada?”