“We are going to change that. I’ll bring a trained nurse up with me.”
“Please don’t be a tyrant.”
“Tut-tut, little girl,” she heard his big laugh over the telephone, “I’ll bring the nurse and someone to help her, and a load of toys to keep the kiddies quiet. When I want a thing, Jane, I usually get it.”
He and the nurse arrived together. A competent houseworker was to follow in a cab. Jane protested. “It seems dreadfully high-handed.”
They were alone in the living-room. Miss Martin had, at once, carried the kiddies off to unpack the toys.
Frederick laughed. “Well, what are you going to do about it? You can’t put me out.”
“But I can refuse to go with you”—there was the crisp note in her voice which always stirred him.
“But you won’t do that, Jane.” He held out his hand to her, drew her a little towards him.
She released herself, flushing. “I am not quite sure what I ought to do.”
“Why think of ‘oughts’? We will just play a bit together, Jane. That’s all. And you’re such a tired little girl, aren’t you?”