“No, I think not,” she answered quietly.
Mrs Dene opened her mouth to speak, and then discreetly closed it again in silence, reflecting that whatever there was to come on that point would get itself said without any assistance from her.
“I had a look at the water as I came along,” continued Rex. “It seemed good casting.”
“I never see it but I think how nice it would be to whip,” said Ruth.
“No! really? Not outgrown the rod and fly since you grew into ball dresses?”
“Try me and see.”
“Now, my dearest child!—”
“Yes, my dearest mother!—”
“Yes, dearest Mrs Dene!—”
“Oh! nonsense! listen to me, you children. Ruth danced herself ill at Cannes; and she lost her color, and she had a little cough, and she has it still, and she is very easily tired—”