“The people about here are the dearest people I’ve ever come across,” she said. “So different from people in London.”
“Why, what’s the matter with people in London?” asked Dion.
“Oh, I don’t know; they’re more artificial. They think so much about clothes, and hats, and the way their hair’s done.”
“The men!”
“I was talking of the women.”
“But is Job Crickendon a woman?”
“Don’t be absurd, Dion. You know what I mean. The country brings out the best that is in people.”
“That’s a bad look out for me, who’ve lived nearly all my life in London.”
“You would be yourself anywhere. Now about Robin. I’ve got the gaiters. They’re not exactly riding gaiters—they don’t make them for such little boys—but they’ll do beautifully. But I don’t want to tell Robin till Monday morning. You see he’s got a very exciting day before him to-morrow, and I think to know about Monday on top of it might be almost too much for him.”
“But what excitement is there to-morrow?”