” “I knew it,” Ennison exclaimed. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. What ho! lights! lights!" And, shouting as he went, he flung himself down stairs. "So endeth the first lesson," he said. She seemed just as stiff and shy as a girl ought to be, Lady Palsworthy thought, neither garrulous nor unready, and free from nearly all the heavy aggressiveness, the overgrown, overblown quality, the egotism and want of consideration of the typical modern girl. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition.
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