"Though perhaps that is because it has become such a frequent custom of yours to trample your victims under foot that one more or less is hardly worth your noticing."
"My dear, I do not understand."
He evidently did not. He looked from one to the other of us as if struck by a sudden foreboding that there was trouble in the air. Such a comical-looking distress came over his peculiar physiognomy that I positively began to feel sorry for him.
"Still, considering that a short time ago she was crying to such a degree that it was feared that she might do herself an injury--all because of you!--it does seem strange that you cannot even remember her name."
He held out his hands in front of him in the funny way we knew so well.
"My dear, of what are you talking? I wish that you would explain."
"It seems that that is what she wants you to do. She has sent this insignificant child to demand an explanation."
He turned to me.
"She has sent you? Who has sent you? Miss Frazer?--who is Miss Frazer?"
"She's one of the governesses."