‘Roddy, may I see it?’
He made no reply; but after a few more minutes he flung it over to her.
It was a terrible success (Julian had always been the most successful subject); and it was devilish as well as funny.
‘Oh, Roddy!’ She began to giggle.
‘Sh! Lookout! He’s coming back.’
He snatched the paper from her and crushed it up.
‘Oh, let me keep it.’
‘Well, don’t let him see it. He hates it.’
He flung it hurriedly into her lap as Julian came up; and as she stuffed it into her pocket with studied carelessness, his lips suddenly relinquished the last of his obstinacy, and he flashed her a look suffused with laughter and the sense of shared guilt. Surely he had never looked at anyone before with such irresistible intimacy and appeal. The less assured face of the child Roddy peered for a moment in that look; but the dark and laughing fascination was new and belonged to the young man; and she melted inwardly at the remembrance of it.
Then there had been the time Martin and Roddy had come to tea—so exciting a little time that she still dwelt on it with beating heart.