“And why not?” said Sarah. “It’s an excellent idea.”
“Do let me! I’ll just be a minute. I’ll throw on a coat and hat—”
Quincy stood, unable to reject her; lacking the wits for it, yet loathing this adventitious family concern, clinging upon him on his way to college. Adelaide dashed upstairs.
“That’s a very good idea,” pondered Sarah. “You’ve lots of time.”
Quincy paced nervously up and down; he was distressed. He did not like what seemed the significance of this—he did not like the afterthought.
And then an idea came to Sarah that gave her pleasure also.
“Why,” she said, “you might have the machine! I’m sure your father hasn’t got it.”
“No! No! No!” cried Quincy, heaping on this proposal much of the vehement denial brought over from the first.
“Why, you silly boy?”
“I don’t want it. I’ll take the car.”