"Why not, Pink?" said Norton, showing his white teeth.
"I don't enjoy it."
"Don't you?" said Norton. "That's funny again. I should think you would."
"Why?" said Matilda, curiously.
"There's so much to say, that's one thing. And then she's so good to you."
"Who told you she was so good to me?"
"I can see it in your face."
Matilda sat silent, wondering what he meant.
"You can always tell," said Norton. "People can't hide things. I can see she has been doing no end of kindnesses to you all summer long. That has made you so fond of her."
Matilda was puzzled and sat silent, not knowing what it was best to say; and Norton watching her stealthily saw a wistful little face, tender and pure, and doubtful, that just provoked caresses. He dropped what was in his hands and fairly took possession of Matilda, kissing the pale cheeks, as if she were his own particular plaything. It was unlike most boys, but Norton Laval was independent and manly above most boys. Matilda was astonished.