"I will bring you in with my launch on Friday," Stysalski planned. "Oh, yes, indeed; we can return in time for M'sieur to take charge of his lamp."
"Why on earth did you say we'd come?" grumbled Jim, when the motorboat had passed the Ailouros and was careening gaily toward Quimpaug. "I can think of lots better things to do with an afternoon than to take tea with that!"
"Why, we thought he was quite nice," Elspeth said; "wild as to art, of course, but fascinating, in a way. And it was rather hard, having to turn him away. I do think he's amusing. His picture is ridiculous, but he really seems so earnest about his ideas."
"That's what I liked about him," Joan agreed. "He has that whole-souled, fiery enthusiasm of other Russians I've met, though his manner is fearfully affected."
"He can't help that, I suppose," Elspeth said, "being a titled furriner."
"I'd never have thought it of my usually sane wife!" Jim groaned. "Why, he's a monumental ass. Did you see him taking in all that rubbish of mine as we came down?"
