Sir John stood upon the threshold. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. “Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. ’ ‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a tinkling laugh. ’ He took his seat next to her, waving the fulminating captain towards the tray. Forgetting her occupation in her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and, squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance, towards her crest-fallen spouse.
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