"Don't I? I'd have cried—I'd have burst into a perfect storm of tears—for him—or you—or anybody who so much as pointed a finger at me, I was so scared."
"Scared? You! I don't believe it."
"I don't believe it myself—now," confessed Esmé, candidly. "But it felt most extremely like it at the time."
"You know I don't at all approve of—"
"Of me. I know you don't, Jinny. Neither does he."
"What did you do to him?"
"Me? I cooed at him like a dove of peace.
"But he was very stiff and proud He said, 'You needn't talk so loud,'"
chanted Miss Esmé mellifluously.
"He didn't!"