His frowning gaze came back to her. "But McClintock agrees to take you both—because he's as big a fool as I am. We’ll have some buttered toast. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. Kneebone invariably takes part with me, when any trifling misunderstanding arises between us. ‘Well, this maid,’ went on Kimble eagerly, ‘and me, we gets to talking, see, and that’s how I knew he were off to this party. “Tut, tut!” he said. Probably a sick man's whim. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it.
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