"Do I need accounting for?" she inquired, with another of the
sidelong smiling glances he approved of.
She really wanted to know, but she was so contented with life as it
was then that she did not feel particularly distressed over it. Her
trial lover took another look at her and decided that perhaps she
didn't need to be accounted for, after all. She was wearing the
little golden-brown suit she clung to, with its little cap to match,
and her cheeks were flushed with the heat of that September day. It
was as interesting to watch her develop one and another little way,
he decided, as it would have been to observe an intelligent child.
That there was some slight difference in his mind between her and a
bona fide intelligent child was proved by that fact that he would
just as lief that Philip had not interrupted them just then: though
the interruption was done with all Philip's natural grace.
He was mussed and rather dusty, and the front of his blue Oliver
Twist suit bore an unmistakable paw-mark on its bosom.
"John," he said earnestly, "if you don't hurry, Foxy will have been
alone quite a while. Mother says I mustn't stay wiv him any longer,
and he doesn't seem to think brakemen is people a bit."
Joy gave a little gurgle of laughter. It reminded her of Mr. James
Arthur Gosport and how he loved brakemen. How shocked he would have
been at the pedigreed Foxy! She began to tell John about it, then
stopped herself.
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