But--"
He set his lips and gave no further hint of his unwillingness to go
where he would be at the mercy of the maternal fondness which would
overwhelm him with the attentions he did not want. Besides--there was
another reason why, since he must for the present be confined somewhere,
he was loath to leave the friendly walls where there was now so much of
interest happening every day. Could he keep it happening at home? Not
without much difficulty, as he well foresaw.
"Miss Linton's coming to us on Saturday," observed Burns carelessly,
strolling to the window with his hands in his pockets.
"Is she? I didn't suppose she'd be strong enough just yet." King tried
to speak with equal carelessness, but the truth was that, with his life
bound, as it was at present, within the confines of this room, the
incidents of each day loomed large.
"She's gaining remarkably fast. For all her apparent delicacy of
constitution when she came to us, I'm beginning to suspect that she's
the fortunate possessor of a good deal of vigour at the normal. She says
herself she was never ill before, and that's why she didn't give up
sooner--couldn't believe there was anything the matter. We can't make
her agree to stay with us a day longer than I say is a necessity for
safety."
"Where does she want to go? Not back to that infernal book-agenting?"
There was a frown between King's well-marked brows.
"Yes, I imagine that's what she intends.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108