Page:The little blue devil (IA littlebluedevil00mackiala).pdf/95
Alison had no Tony—anecdotes for the Professor that evening, until finally he asked her, “What’s the news of that boy of yours to-day? You haven’t told me anything about him to-night.”
“But you’ve just come back from interviewing him yourself.”
“My dear, you know that isn’t generally any reason for———”
“I know! I’ve just remembered what I was going to tell you. I was reading to him to-day—Oh, Winthrop, isn’t he just exactly like the ‘Little Blue Devil’?”
“I don’t recognise———” began the Professor.
“Yes you do. You know, Kipling’s ‘Little Blue Devil’:
‘It’s all you will get from me,
And that is the finish of him,’ she said—”
Isn’t he just like that?”
“H’m, yes,” the Professor agreed. “‘For myself, I swam’—yes, that’s Tony. He seemed a bit grumpy tonight. We didn’t do much work.”
“He’s tired, poor child!” Alison was up in arms at once. “You know it’s only the second day he’s been up. Of course, he finds it tiring.”
“When is he to be allowed out?”
“The minute it’s fine, and that will probably be tomorrow; there are quite a lot of stars out.”
It was fine next day, and Tony, with lounge, crutches, and books, was duly installed on a little balcony in front of the house. Books were a good deal neglected that day though, for was it not sufficiently absorbing to be out of doors once more—to lie out in the sun and breeze, and to watch the people in the street below? . . . There was