Gilbert’s eyes opened in blank surprise, but he caught the twinkle in her eyes, and the smouldering laugh in the corners of her mouth as she watched him. He knew there was a joke somewhere, but he was much too hot and tired to worry it out. Instead he looked at Claudia’s mouth, which was soft and red, with a most provocative pout.
“It’s too warm even to laugh. But it’s nice and cool here.” He dropped into a chair with a huge sigh of content.
“We are all alone here,” said Claudia happily. “The others have gone on the river, but I waited for you.” There was no one in sight except a couple of birds hopping about in search of a worm. “I am going to give you some tea out here, and then we will go down and get one of the boats out.” She dropped a kiss on his hair, which already had several silver threads in it. “I thought I’d stop and mother a poor tired boy! Somehow—wasn’t it ridiculous of me?—I fancied you would like to have me all to yourself.” She laughed a little. “It’s rather nice to have someone to pet and fuss over. I’ve never had anyone who would let me do it. Mother hates us even to kiss her—we do it once a year, at Christmas, when we thank her for her present—and Pat is too tom-boyish to like being petted. I had to fall back on Billie. He can stand any amount of it, but still—well, he’s only a dog.”
“Does that mean I have cut out Billie,” said Gilbert lazily. Her hands, with their soft, rather mesmeric finger-tips, gave him agreeable sensations in keeping with idle hours and summer days.
“No, it doesn’t. As a matter of fact I feel so happy that I could pet the whole world!”
“A tall order! But, I say, I’d rather you didn’t do it to the masculine half. They might misunderstand your mothering instinct.”
She laughed and dropped another kiss on his hair before she went back to her seat among the cushions. Involuntarily he put up his hand and smoothed his hair, which was in no way disturbed. It was thick and straight, and spoke of his abundant energy.
“Gilbert! Don’t brush my kisses off. You are ungallant.”
“Sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to brush them off, but a man hates the idea that his hair has got ruffled.”
“That’s because you are afraid of looking ridiculous! Men are very dignified animals, aren’t they? I believe you’re a particularly dignified, conventional specimen!”