"Little sister," he said, imprisoning both her hands, "it is a paradise—but I don't intend to come here and squat on my relatives, and I won't!"
"Philip! You are common!"
"Oh, I know you and Austin think you want me."
"Phil!"
"All right, dear. I'll—it's awfully generous of you—so I'll pay you a visit—for a little while."
"You'll live here, that's what you'll do—though I suppose you are dreaming and scheming to have all sorts of secret caves and queer places to yourself—horrid, grimy, smoky bachelor quarters where you can behave sans-façon."
"I've had enough of sans-façon" he said grimly. "After shacks and bungalows and gun-boats and troopships, do you suppose this doesn't look rather heavenly?"
"Dear fellow!" she said, looking tenderly at him; and then under her breath: "What a ghastly life you have led!"
But he knew she did not refer to the military portion of his life.
He threw back his coat, dug both hands into his pockets, and began to wander about the rooms, halting sometimes to examine nondescript articles of ornament or bits of furniture as though politely interested. But she knew his thoughts were steadily elsewhere.