"
Robert could not hear Christine's answer. He felt that Ricardo had
thrown out his arms in one of his wild gestures. "Not gratitude--not
gratitude. He was to have carried on my fight. To have been free as I
am not----"
Miss Edwards and Rufus Cosgrave came racketing back up the steep and
creaking stairs. It was like the whirlwind entry of some boisterous
comet dragging at its rear a bewildered, happy tail. They were as
exultant as though their paper bags contained priceless loot rescued
from overwhelming forces.
"Hurry up there, Mr. Stonehouse. Don't keep the lady waiting. Tea and
puff, as ordered, ma'am. No, ma'am, no tipping allowed in this
establishment. But anything left under the plate will be sent to the
Society for the Cure of the Grouch among Superior Waiters."
She jollied Christine, whose answering smile was like a little puzzled
ghost. She nourished a heavily scented handkerchief in the
professional manner and grinned at Robert, whose open hostility did not
so much as ruffle the fringe of her good humour. In her raffish,
rakish world poverty and wry, eccentric-tempered people abounded, and
were just part of an enormous joke. And Rufus Cosgrave, who gaped at
her in wonder and admiration, saw that she was right. Poor old Robert
and exams, and beastly, bullying fathers and hard-upness--the latter
more especially--were all supremely funny.
But Robert would not look at the jam-puff which she pushed across to
him.
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