But she won't believe me when I say it." Ralph, as if he could foresee the length of this familiar argument, drew up a chair for his sister and sat down himself.
"I'm not interrupting ?" she inquired.
Ralph shook his head, and for a time they sat silent.

The lines curved themselves in semicircles above their eyes.
"She doesn't understand that one's got to take risks," he observed, finally.
"I believe mother would take risks if she knew that Charles was the sort of boy to profit by it." "He's got brains, hasn't he ?" said Ralph.

His tone had taken on that shade of pugnacity which suggested to his sister that some personal grievance drove him to take the line he did.

She wondered what it might be, but at once recalled her mind, and assented.
"In some ways he's fearfully backward, though, compared with what you were at his age.

And he's difficult at home, too.