"
"The orchestrion, eh? Ah! H'm!" said Sam.
"You still haven't made it quite clear," said Billie.
"I was thinking."
"Oh, if you want to think!"
"Tell me the facts," said Sam.
"Well, Mr. Mortimer and my father have taken a house together in the
country, and for some reason or other they have quarrelled, and now Mr.
Mortimer is doing everything he can to make father uncomfortable.
Yesterday afternoon father wanted to sleep, and Mr. Mortimer started
his orchestrion just to annoy him."
"I think--I'm not quite sure--I think that's a tort," said Sam.
"A what?"
"Either a tort or a misdemeanour."
"Why, you do know something about it after all!" cried Billie, startled
into a sort of friendliness in spite of herself. And at the words and
the sight of her quick smile Sam's professional composure reeled on its
foundations. He had half risen, with the purpose of springing up and
babbling of the passion that consumed him, when the chill reflection
came to him that this girl had once said that she considered him
ridiculous.
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