And every word of that too.

Don't you skip, and cheat me." She laughed and settled herself down to amuse him.

And he listened contentedly.
"That is something like literature," he said once or twice.

"I can understand papers of that sort going like wild-fire." When he was tired of being read to, she talked to him in a manner that would have astonished the Disagreeable Man: not of books, nor learning, but of people she had met and of Places she had seen; and there was fun in everything she said.

She knew London well, and she could tell him about the Jewish and the Chinese quarters, and about her adventures in company with a man who took her here, there, and everywhere.
She made him some tea, and she cheered the poor fellow as he had not been cheered for months.
"You're just a little brick," he said, when she was leaving.