He took the hand. That seemed necessary.
“But I haven't been acting,” he said.
“Oh, yes, you have,” she answered, “and I have only been on the stage for a week; while you—well, I suppose you have been on it for at least two or three years. I am taking my farewell of it this morning, and you—?”
The boy's face was deeply flushed, but he did not look, or feel, actually angry.
“I don't know about myself yet,” he said.
“Think it all over,” the old lady exclaimed. “And now let us have lunch. I am hungry.”
Jimmy arrived that evening.
“How old are you, Claude?” he exclaimed, clapping his friend on the back.