She had
funked the sharp corners of life, that other, in a way in which this girl
with the clear, brown-gold eyes that met the World so squarely would never
funk them.
Before he could formulate any answer there came the sound of the house-door
opening and closing. He rose hastily from his chair.
"Ah! That must be your brother!" he exclaimed, a note of what sounded
almost like relief in his voice. He seemed glad of the distraction, and
shook hands cordially with Robin when he came in.
"I'm sorry I was out," began the latter. But Coventry cut short his
apologies.
"Don't apologise," he said. "It has given Miss Lovell and myself the
opportunity of renewing our acquaintance."
Robin looked from one to the other in surprise.
"Have you met before, then?" he asked.
Ann explained.
"At Montricheux," she replied. "Mr. Coventry saved me from a watery grave
on the night of the Venetian Fete there."
"From nothing more dangerous than a wetting, actually," interpolated
Coventry in his abrupt way.
"Well, even that's something to be thankful for," returned Robin, smiling.
"Will you smoke?"
He offered his cigarette-case, and the two men lit up.
"I've just been over to see Farmer Sparkes," he continued.
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