I told Hermann.

But I am afraid my mother will--well, you can't call it arguing--but will try to persuade her to have me.

I can't let Sylvia in for that.

Nor, if it comes to that, can I let myself in for that." "Can't you impress on your mother that she mustn't ?" Michael leaned forward to the fire, pondering this, and stretching out his big hands to the blaze.
"Yes, I might," he said.

"I should love to see Sylvia again, just see her, you know.