He knew
she would understand what he meant.
"Not much. To see that Rosy is not unhappy any more. We can prevent
that. She was out of repair--as the house was. She is being rebuilt and
decorated. She knows that she will be taken care of."
"I know her better than you do," with a laugh. "She will not go away.
She is too frightened of the row it would make--of what I should say. I
should have plenty to say. I can make her shake in her shoes."
Betty let her eyes rest full upon him, and he saw that she was
softly summing him up--quite without prejudice, merely in interested
speculation upon the workings of type.
"You are letting the inherited temperament run away with you at this
moment," she reflected aloud--her quiet scrutiny almost abstracted. "It
was foolish to say that."
He had known it was foolish two seconds after the words had left his
lips. But a temper which has been allowed to leap hedges, unchecked
throughout life, is in peril of forming a habit of taking them even at
such times as a leap may land its owner in a ditch. This last was what
her interested eyes were obviously saying. It suited him best at the
moment to try to laugh.
"Don't look at me like that," he threw off.
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