Once--" "Stop!" said Sylvia faintly.

"And anyhow, you probably taught him.

...
Look at him as he saunters across the lawn, Leila--look at him!" "Well?
I see him." "Isn't he almost an ideal ?" "He is.

He certainly is, dear." "Do you think he walks as though he were perfectly well ?" "Well, I don't know," said Leila thoughtfully.

"Sometimes people whose walk is a gracefully languid saunter develop adipose tissue after forty." "Nonsense! Really, Leila, do you think he walks like a perfectly well man ?" "He may be coming down with whooping-cough--" Sylvia rose indignantly, but Leila pulled her back to the sun-warmed marble bench: "A girl in love loses her sense of humour temporarily.