But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. . . " "Excuse me, Madam," replied the carpenter, turning his back upon her, and sinking into a chair: "Thames, my love, bring me my spectacles. " "When will you want me?"—with pitiful eagerness. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire. ’ Gerald was relieved to hear the loud guffaw issuing from the old man’s lips. The comments on the makeover lessened but were replaced by long admiring glances by boys who had never before given her the time of day. ’ ‘Yes, but I’m afraid I am far too interested to stop mixing myself in your affairs,’ Gerald said ruefully.
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