I heard her say so." He straightened up sharply, turning to look at her.
"I was sleeping with her.

I was still awake, and I heard her say: 'I _do_ love you--I _do_ love you.' She said it very softly, and I cuddled up, supposing she meant me.

But she was asleep." "She certainly meant you," said Selwyn, forcing his stiffened lips into a smile.
The child shook her head, looking down at the ring which she was turning on her finger: "No; she did not mean me." "H-how do you know ?" "Because she said a man's name." The silence lengthened; he sat, tilted a little forward, blank gaze focussed on the snowy window; Drina, standing, leaned back into the hollow of his arm, absently studying her ring.
A few moments later her music-teacher arrived, and Drina was obliged to leave him.
"If you don't wait until I have finished my music," she said, "you won't see mother and Eileen.

They are coming to take me to the riding-school at four o'clock." He said that he couldn't stay that day; and when she had gone away to the schoolroom he walked slowly to the window and looked out across the snowy Park, where hundreds of children were floundering about with gaily painted sleds.

It was a pretty scene in the sunshine; crimson sweaters and toboggan caps made vivid spots of colour on the white expanse.
Beyond, through the naked trees, he could see the drive, and the sleighs with their brilliant scarlet plumes and running-gear flashing in the sun.