But they were too late. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. White rang the bell. She watched for five minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest, past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets. That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. "You can generally understand that language.
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