"I'm looking for Moya. She knows she must always go to her room after tea and stay there. The naughty child ran away."
"She's all right. I saw her snuggled under a rug with Mrs. Curtis not two minutes ago. Just a turn or two in this lovely night."
Drawn by the magnet of his manhood, Moya slipped into the chair beside the eight-year-old.
"I'd kick her darned shins if she spanked me," boasted he of the eight years.
Moya admired his courage tremendously. Her dark eyes followed the retreating figure of her governess. "I'm 'fraid."
"Hm! Bet I wouldn't be. Course, you're only a girl."
His companion pleaded guilty with a sigh and slipped her hand into his beneath the steamer rug.
"It's howwid to be a dirl," she confided.
"Bet I wouldn't be one."
"You talk so funny."