So I just gave way to my natural feelings. It's
a way I have in difficult situations."
Grant's expression as he looked at him was a mingling of
admiration, fear and scorn. "You are full of those petty tricks,"
said he.
"Why petty? Is it petty to meet the requirements of a situation?
The situation was petty--the trick had to be. Besides, I tell you,
it wasn't a trick. If I hadn't given my nerves an outlet I might
have balked or bolted myself. I didn't want to have to think any
more than she."
"You mustn't say those things to me," objected his friend.
"Why not? What do I care what you or any one else thinks of ME?
And what could you do except simply think? Old pal, you ought to
learn not to judge me by the rules of your little puddle. It's a
ridiculous habit." He leaped at the door where Margaret had
disappeared and rapped on it fiercely.
"Yes--yes--I'm coming," responded a nervous, pleading, agitated
voice; and the door opened and Margaret appeared.
"What shall we do now?" she said to Craig. Grant saw, with an
amazement he could scarcely conceal, that for the time, at least,
she was quite subdued, would meekly submit to anything.
"Go to your grandmother," said Craig promptly.
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