LORINE
39
mained standing with his hand on the back of the chair.
"After carrying that chair so far you might at least sit down," she offered. She seemed trying not to laugh.
He dropped into the chair.
He was trying unavailingly to reconcile her with his expectations of a flighty, undisciplined child. She was not a child, but a young and bewitching woman whose face showed the determination and tenacity, as the flash of her brilliant eyes showed the daring, of old Matthew Regan—but of Matthew Regan refined, cultured, self-disciplined by contact with many kinds of people; for he saw that to any one other than himself she would have appeared a person of graceful tact and, no matter where it might have been acquired, good breeding.
