He 's not a boy, but a fast fellow, and I won't have him about.

You knew this, and yet disobeyed me." "I hardly ever see him," began Fanny.
"Is that true ?" asked Mr.Shaw, turning suddenly to Polly.
"Oh, please, sir, don't ask me.

I promised I would n't that is Fanny will tell you," cried Polly, quite red with distress at the predicament she was in.
"No matter about your promise; tell me all you know of this absurd affair.

It will do Fanny more good than harm." And Mr.Shaw sat down looking more amiable, for Polly's dismay touched him.
"May I ?" she whispered to Fanny.
"I don't care," answered Fan, looking both angry and ashamed, as she stood sullenly tying knots in her handkerchief.
So Polly told, with much reluctance and much questioning, all she knew of the walks, the lunches, the meetings, and the notes.

It was n't much, and evidently less serious than Mr.Shaw expected; for, as he listened, his eyebrows smoothed themselves out, and more than once his lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh, for after all, it was rather comical to see how the young people aped their elders, playing the new-fashioned game, quite unconscious of its real beauty, power, and sacredness.
"Oh, please, sir, don't blame Fan much, for she truly is n't half as silly as Trix and the other, girls.