"I'm afraid, d' you know, it's under-exposed," she said.

"What a pity! The kitten was rather nice!" The maiden aunt, placing
the knitting of a red silk tie beside her plate, turned her aspiring,
well-bred gaze on Shelton.

"Look, Auntie," said Antonia in her clear, quick voice, "there's the
funny little man again!"

"Oh," said the maiden aunt--a smile revealed her upper teeth; she looked
for the funny little man (who was not English)--"he's rather nice!"

Shelton did not look for the funny little man; he stole a glance that
barely reached Antonia's brow, where her eyebrows took their tiny upward
slant at the outer corners, and her hair was still ruffled by a windy
walk. From that moment he became her slave.

"Mr. Shelton, do you know anything about these periscopic binoculars?"
said Mrs. Dennant's voice; "they're splendid for buildin's, but
buildin's are so disappointin'. The thing is to get human interest,
isn't it?" and her glance wandered absently past Shelton in search of
human interest.

"You haven't put down what you've taken, mother."

From a little leather bag Mrs. Dennant took a little leather book.

"It's so easy to forget what they're about," she said, "that's so
annoyin'."