Summertown, whose leading characteristics throughout his short life were a cheerful immaturity and chronic instability of temperament, became immediately contrite. His rare moments of seriousness were marked by a pathetic desire to stand well in Loring's eyes.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" he exclaimed. "It won't happen again, Loring. I swear it won't."
Loring laughed and caught his arm.
O'Rane and I were the last to leave the billiard-room, and, as we came to the foot of the staircase, Sonia appeared in sight on the landing above. For the moment we were invisible to her, and she pattered lightly down the stairs, waving one hand to Crabtree, who was standing astride the rug in front of the fire.
"Hope I haven't kept you waiting, Tony?" she called out.
Crabtree responded with some decorous conventionality, and in another second we came into the light and were face to face with Sonia.
"Hallo, children, where were you hiding?" she asked as we shook hands. "Have they elected you to your old fellowship, David?"
"I haven't finished yet," he answered. "I say, Sonia...."
He paused and looked almost anxiously at her. The firelight glowing across the hall struck sparks of gold out of her brown hair, and her arms and shoulders gleamed white through the transparent, blue gauze of her dress.
"Say on, MacDavid," she bade him.