"I don't see why George isn't here. Goodness! There he is
now," she added as a tremendous slam of the front door announced the
fact. The next moment a small boy, roguishly blue-eyed and yellow-haired
like Baby, with an extremely dirty face and a gray sweater half covered
with mud, hurled himself into the room, surreptitiously tickling one of
Baby's bare feet and pulling Mary's curls on his way to greet his
father.
"What have you been doing to get so dirty?"
"Playing cops and robbers," said the boy, serenely. His dimples
appeared suddenly; his eyes lit up. "Say, mother"--he turned to her
irresolutely--"shall I tell father now?"
"Not until after dinner," returned the mother inexorably. "Go and make
yourself clean!"
"May I put on my white silk tie?" George's white tie was the banner of
festivity.
"Yes."
"You rouse my curiosity. This seems to be a great occasion," said
Langshaw.
"Oh, it is!" agreed the mother happily. She murmured in his ear as they
went downstairs: "I hope you'll show that you're pleased, dear.
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