Siward raised his perplexed eyes.
"Miss Page, sir." "Oh," said Siward doubtfully; then, "Ask Miss Page to come up." Marion strolled in a moment later, exchanged a vigorous hand shake with Siward, pulled up a chair and dropped into it.

She was in riding-habit and boots, faultlessly groomed as usual, her smooth, pale hair sleek in its thick knot, collar and tie immaculate as her gloves.
"Well," she said, "any news of your ankle, Stephen ?" "I inquired about my ankle," said Siward, amused, "and they tell me it is better, thank you." "Sit a horse pretty soon ?" she asked, dropping one leg over the other and balancing the riding-crop across her knee.
"Not for awhile.

You have a fine day for a gallop, Marion," looking askance at the sunshine filtering through the first green leaves of the tree outside his window.
"It's all right--the day.

I'm trying Tom O'Hara's new mare.

They say she's a little devil.