“TROUSERS!” she whispered. “It’s his birthday. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. Then suddenly her spirit rose in revolt. You and I. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. I know. . And, if I can render you any service, you may command me. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking. Why open my mouth if there might not be a need for it when all’s said?’ Melusine acknowledged the logic of this. Her greatest exploit was the howling before the mid-day meal. . At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. No one in the world is beyond the shaft of scandal— we all catch it terribly sometimes.
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