Page:Firecrackers a realistic novel.pdf/43

 exactly tell me. I'd rather talk to you about it some day when we're alone. Maman wouldn't understand, and it would bore her.

A sudden memory transfused the wistfulness in the child's white face with a radiant variety of delight. Her nostrils twitched like the fins of a goldfish as she groped about in her hand-bag. He gave me his card, she explained. She brought it forth triumphantly at last and handed it to Campaspe. That lady, no longer in doubt about the value of the manner in which she had been passing her time, read thereon: