"You get more British every day in your accent and
conversation, my kid."
"Well, I try hard enough! I _do_ like their way of speaking. They make
our voices sound grating and our expressions crude."
"_Our_ ways for mine!"
"You can have them. Now run away, Petro. I'll see the 'Young Moon'
later. I need a nap. Lay awake last night worrying!"
But when he had gone she lay awake planning. This golliwog was
undoubtedly dangerous. The absorbed look in Peter's eyes when he
described her singular attractions contradicted the statement that his
feelings were Platonic.
He "only wanted to help!" Pooh! Still Ena was glad he had said that,
because it had given her a brilliant idea. It was also rather a cruel
idea, but all is fair in love and war: and this might be both.
Of course, if the girl were coming to New York to be a Salamander,
the weapon would be useless. Ena must find another. She could not be
sure until she had met Miss Child; but she told herself that no
glorified golliwog, however sly, could fool _her_ for five minutes!
She would soon know whether Peter were right or wrong about this
daughter of a clergyman whose mother was dead.
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