Kirk, who had been
disposed to be militant, softened instantly. The action brought back
a flood of memories. It conjured up recollections of peaceful evenings
in the old studio, for this had been a favourite habit of Ruth's. It
made him feel that he loved her more than he had ever done in his life;
and--incidentally--that he was a brute to try and thwart her in anything
whatsoever.
"I know it's horrid for you, dear old boy," said Ruth coaxingly; "but
do be good and not make a fuss about it. Not kissing Bill doesn't mean
that you need be any the less fond of him. I know it will be strange at
first--I didn't get used to it for ever so long--but, honestly, it is
for his good, however ghastly the expression of the thing may sound."
"It's treating the kid like a wretched invalid," grumbled Kirk.
"You wait till you see him playing, and then you'll know if he's a
wretched invalid or not!"
"May I see him playing?"
"Don't be silly. Of course."
"I thought I had better ask. Being the perambulating plague-spot I am,
I was not taking any risks."
"How horribly self-centred you are! You will talk as if you were in
some special sort of quarantine. I keep on telling you it's the same
for all of us."
"I suppose when I'm with him I shall have to be sterilized?"
"I don't think it necessary myself, but Aunt Lora does, so it's always
done.
Pages:
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195