Miss King, I noticed, was sketching for dear life, and her cheeks were crimson.
When Potter had got to the bottom and was riding away, I unfolded the note and read: Don't be a fool.

For God's sake, have some sense and keep away from King's Highway.
I laughed, and Miss King looked up inquiringly.

Following an impulse I've never yet been able to classify, I showed her the note.
She read it calmly--I might say indifferently.

"He is quite right," she said coldly.

"I, too--if I cared enough--would advise you to keep away from King's Highway." "But you don't care enough to advise me, and so I shall go," I said--and I had the satisfaction of seeing her teeth come down sharply on her lower lip.