have to apologise, and he spoke at once with the idea of checking the reddening of his face. "I don't think that," he said with a sort of belated alacrity. "Really, it was kind of you, you know—very kind of you indeed. And I know that—I can quite understand that—er—your kindness. . . ."
"Ran away with me. And now poor little Teddy will get into worse trouble for letting me. . . ."
"Oh no," said Mr. Lewisham, perceiving an opportunity and trying not to smile his appreciation of what he was saying. " I had no business to read this as I picked it up—absolutely no business. Consequently. . . ."
"You won't take any notice of it? Really!"
"Certainly not," said Mr. Lewisham.
Her face lit with a smile, and Mr. Lewisham's relaxed in sympathy. "It is nothing—it's the proper thing for me to do, you know."
"But so many people wouldn't do it. Schoolmasters are not usually so—chivalrous."
He was chivalrous! The phrase acted like a spur. He obeyed a foolish impulse.
"If you like—" he said.
"What?"
"He needn't do this. The Impot., I mean. I'll let him off."
"Really?"
"I can."
