Part 15 (1/2)
”I'm so sorry for starting you,” he apologised. ”I just came in to say goodbye.”
And he held out a hand which she never seemed to see.
”To say goodbye!” she gasped.
”Yes, I've got to go. I'm afraid the doctor's out?”
”Yes, he is. Won't you wait?”
”I'm afraid I can't.”
She was shrinking from him, shrinking round towards the door. He stood aside, to let her bolt if that was her desire. And then she in turn took her stand, back to the door.
”He'll be very sorry to miss you,” she said more firmly, and with a smile.
”And I'm very sorry to miss him,” said Pocket, unconscientiously enough for anybody. ”He's been most awfully good to me, and I wish you'd tell him how grateful I am.”
”I'm afraid he won't believe me,” the girl said dryly, ”if he finds you gone.”
”I must go-really I must. I shall get into an awful row as it is. Do you mind giving him one other message?”
”As many as you like.”
”Well, you might tell him from me that I'll give myself away, but I'll never give him! He'll know what I mean.”
”Is that all?”
She was keeping him very cleverly, putting in her word always at the last moment, and again refusing to see his hand; but again it was the boy who helped to waste his own golden opportunity, this time through an indefensible bit of boyish braggadocio.
”No; you may tell the doctor that if he wanted to detain me he went the worst way about it by locking me into my room!”
She looked mystified at first, and then astounded.
”How did you get out?”
”How do you suppose?”
”I never heard anything!”
”I took care you shouldn't.”
And he described the successful adventure with pardonable unction in the end. After that he insisted on saying goodbye. And the young girl stood up to him like a little heroine.
”I'm very sorry, but I can't let you go, Mr. Upton.”
”Can't let me?”
”I really am sorry-but you must wait to see my uncle.”