Corinne drew herself up to her full height--toes included; not
very high, but all she could do--and said in a voice pitched to a
high key, her finger within a few inches of his nose:
"It's true, and I will say it!"
The rustle of silk was heard overhead, and a plump, tightly laced
woman in voluminous furs, her head crowned by a picture hat piled
high with plumes, was making her way down the stairs. Jack looked
up and waved his hand to his aunt, and then stood at mock
attention, like a corporal on guard, one hand raised to salute her
as she passed. The boy, with the thought of Peter coming, was very
happy this afternoon.
"What are you two quarrelling about?" came the voice. Rather a
soft voice with a thread of laziness running through it.
"Jack's too mean for anything, mother. He knows we haven't men
enough without him for a cotillion, now that Garry has dropped
out, and he's been just stupid enough to invite some old man to
come and see him this evening."
The furs and picture hat swept down and on, Jack standing at
attention, hands clasping an imaginary musket his face drawn down
to its severest lines, his cheeks puffed out to make him look the
more solemn.
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