I want to be patient
with you--I do indeed sympathize with you in your
misfortunes--you know that well enough--but you're very
tiresome with that eternal harping on what I believed and
what I didn't believe. Now, are you going to stop to supper
or not?--because if you are I must send the maid out.
And there's another thing--would it be of any help to you
to bring your things here from the hotel? You can have
Alfred's room as well as not--till Christmas, at least."
"Supposing I couldn't get my luggage out of the hotel
till I'd settled my bill," suggested Thorpe tentatively,
in a muffled voice.
The practical woman reflected for an instant.
"I was thinking," she confessed then, "that it might
be cheaper to leave your things there, and buy what
little you want--I don't imagine, from what I've seen,
that your wardrobe is so very valuable--but no, I suppose
the bill ought to be paid. Perhaps it can be managed;
how much will it be?"
Thorpe musingly rose to his feet, and strolled over
to her chair. With his thick hands on his sister's
shoulders he stooped and kissed her on the forehead.
"You believe in me now, anyway, eh, Lou?" he said,
as he straightened himself behind her.
The unaccustomed caress--so different in character from
the perfunctory salute with which he had greeted her
on his arrival from foreign parts, six months before--
brought a flush of pleased surprise to her plain face.
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