"Though it seems hours since you went away."
"Does it really, precious?"
Mr. Waddington was still shaken.
"If I had been told that any daughter of mine would come and bark at me from behind like that," he said querulously, "I would not have believed it."
"Oh, father! There you are. I didn't see you."
"There," said Mr. Waddington, "is right. You nearly scared the top of my head off."
"I'm sorry."
"Too late to be sorry now," said Mr. Waddington moodily. "You've gone and spoiled the best ten-cent cigar in Hempstead."
He eyed the remains sadly: and, throwing them away, selected another from his upper waistcoat-pocket and bit the end off.
"Molly, my angel," said George vibrantly, "fancy you really being with me once more!"