“No, sir. I don’t mind looking out for her. A little care is all she needs.”
After a moment’s frowning reflection: “It will be awkward to-night,” he suggested.
Mrs. Sniffen’s nose went up: “The ladies will ’ave to powder their faces in your room, Mr. Barry, and keep their ’ands off the piano.”
He scowled at the prospect, then: “Here, give me that tray. I’ll feed her myself.”
He went upstairs with the tray, knocked at the closed door.
“Tuck yourself in,” he called to her. “I’ve come to nourish you. All set?”
After a few moments: “Yes,” she said calmly.
He went in. She sat huddled up in bed, swathed to the throat in a blue crash bath-robe.
“Well”, he exclaimed gaily, “I hear unruly reports about you. What do you mean by demanding to get up and beat it?”
“I can’t expect you to keep me here, Mr. Annan. I’ve been so much trouble already——”