illogical her brother should add: "I dare say Peter will have come, if you return to mother."
"I don't care if he has. Peter's nothing to me. But I'll go if you wish it."
Nick looked down at her again, and then said: "It doesn't signify. We'll all go."
"All?" Biddy echoed.
"He won't hurt us. On the contrary, he'll do us good."
This was possible, the girl reflected in silence, but none the less the idea struck her as courageous—the idea of their taking the odd young man back to breakfast with them and with the others, especially if Peter should be there. If Peter was nothing to her, it was singular she should have attached such importance to this contingency. The odd young man reappeared, and now that she saw him without his queer female appendages he seemed personally less unusual. He struck her, moreover, as generally a good deal accounted for by the literary character, especially if it were responsible for a lot of good writing. As he took his place on the bench Nick said to him, indicating her, "My sister Bridget," and then mentioned his name, "Mr. Gabriel Nash."
"You enjoy Paris—you are happy here?" Mr. Nash inquired, leaning over his friend to speak to the girl.
Though his words belonged to the situation, it struck her that his tone didn't, and this made her answer him more dryly than she usually spoke. "Oh, yes, it's very nice."
"And French art interests you? You find things here that please?"
"Oh, yes, I like some of them."
