"Well, I'll not sleep during the sermon," promised Blake.
She shook her head at his levity, and left him, to fetch her hat and furs.
When they went out, Blake had no need to stop in the hall. He had brought no overcoat. The first breath of the clear frosty air outside caused her to draw her furs about her graceful throat. She glanced at Blake, and asked with almost maternal concern. "Where's your topcoat? You'll take cold."
"What, a day like this?" he replied. "On a good hustling job I'd call this shirtsleeve weather."
"You're so hardy! That is part of your strength."
"Um-m," muttered Blake. "That cousin of yours is a hummer, isn't she?"
"If you but knew how she envies me my Crusoe adventures!"
"I'm not surprised to hear it. What gets me is seeing her go to the same church as her mother."
"She doesn't usually. But how could she miss such a chance to tease aunty and Lord James? She's a dear contrary girl."
"Then she's not an Episcopalian?"