Chester. He was in that state of effervescence that
demanded an immediate outlet.
Madam found him so amusing that she promptly detailed him as her special
escort.
"Eleanor can look after the baggage," she said, "and Isobel can look
after Eleanor. The turtle-doves can take a taxi." And she closed her
strong old fingers around Quin's wrist and pulled him forward.
He shot an appealing glance over his shoulder at Eleanor, who shook her
head in exasperation; then he obediently conducted Madam to her carriage
and scrambled in beside her.
"Now," she said, when he had got a cushion at her back and a stool under
her foot, "tell me: where's Ranny--drunk as usual?"
"No, siree!" said Quin proudly. "Sober as usual. He hasn't touched a drop
since you went away."
She looked at him incredulously.
"Are you lying?"
"I am not."
Her hard, suspicious old face began to twitch and her eyelids reddened.
"This is your doing," she said gruffly. "You've put more backbone into
him than all the doctors together."
"That's not all I've done," said Quin. "What are you going to say when I
tell you I've sold him a farm?"
"A farm? You've got no farm; and he had no money to buy it, if you had.
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