"That they quarrelled about."

"Yes. But what's all that to do with you? We're going home to-
morrow--you'd better be thinking about your frocks."

"Bless you! They're all thought about. A family feud? It's like
the Bible, or Mark Twain--awfully exciting. What did YOU do in the
feud, Father?"

"Never you mind."

"Oh! But if I'm to keep it up?"

"Who said you were to keep it up?"

"You, darling."

"I? I said it had nothing to do with you."

"Just what _I_ think, you know; so that's all right."

She was too sharp for him; FINE, as Annette sometimes called her.
Nothing for it but to distract her attention.

"There's a bit of rosaline point in here," he said, stopping
before a shop, "that I thought you might like."

When he had paid for it and they had resumed their progress, Fleur
said: