How long, Phyllis, since we met him at Guardy's? About a month.
But he's so unaffected--quite at home with us. A nice fellow."
Mr. Ventnor murmured:
"Very different from his father, isn't he?"
"Is he? We don't know his father; he's a shipowner, I think."
Mr. Ventnor rubbed his hands: "Ye-es," he said, "just giving up--a warm
man. Young Pillin's a lucky fellow--only son. So you met him at old Mr.
Heythorp's. I know him too--relation of yours, I believe."
"Our dear Guardy such a wonderful man."
Mr. Ventnor echoed: "Wonderful--regular old Roman."
"Oh! but he's so kind!" Mrs. Larne lifted the white stuff: "Look what
he's given this naughty gairl!"
Mr. Ventnor murmured: "Charming! Charming! Bob Pillin said, I think,
that Mr. Heythorp was your settlor."
One of those little clouds which visit the brows of women who have owed
money in their time passed swiftly athwart Mrs. Larne's eyes. For a
moment they seemed saying: 'Don't you want to know too much?' Then they
slid from under it.
"Won't you sit down?" she said. "You must forgive our being at work."
Mr. Ventnor, who had need of sorting his impressions, shook his head.
"Thank you; I must be getting on.
Pages:
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178