It distressed him to think that his hero should be a friend of this
weak-looking, sly little thing--for so he uncompromisingly described Enid
Crofton to himself.
Hostess and guest sat down on the big, roomy sofa, while Timmy moved
away and opened a book. He was afraid lest his mother should invite him
to leave the room, for he wanted to hear what they were saying. Timmy
always enjoyed hearing grown-up people's conversation, especially when
they had forgotten that he was present. All at once his sharp ears heard
Mrs. Crofton's low, melodious voice asking the question he had been
half-expecting her to ask: "Do you expect Mr. Radmore soon?"
"Yes, he's coming down on Friday." There was a pause, then Timmy heard
his mother say: "Have you known Godfrey Radmore long?"
Janet really wanted to know. Somehow, she found it difficult to imagine
a friendship between Godfrey and this little fribble of a woman. But as
to that, Janet Tosswill showed less than her usual intelligence. She
still thought of Godfrey Radmore as of the rather raw, awkward, though
clear-headed and determined lad of twenty-three--the Radmore, that is,
of nine years ago.
"My husband and I first met him in Egypt," said Mrs.
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