“Well, I suppose if you didn’t some one else would. They will have it, won’t they?” “Yes, they will have it.” The wants of the people, however, appeared at the present moment to interest Mr. Flack less than his own. He looked at his watch and remarked that the old gentleman didn’t seem to have much authority. “What do you mean by that?” the girl asked. “Why with Miss Francie. She’s taking her time, or rather, I mean, she’s taking mine.” “Well, if you expect to do anything with her you must give her plenty of that,” Delia returned. “All right: I’ll give her all I have.” And Miss Dosson’s interlocutor leaned back in his chair with folded arms, as to signify how much, if it came to that, she might have to count with his patience. But she sat there easy and empty, giving no sign and fearing no future. He was the first indeed to turn again to restlessness: at the end of a few moments he asked the young lady if she didn’t suppose her father had told her sister who it was. “Do you think that’s all that’s required?” she made answer with cold gaiety. But she added more familiarly: “Probably that’s the reason. She’s so shy.” “Oh yes--she used to look it.” “No, that’s her peculiarity, that she never looks it and yet suffers everything.” “Well, you make it up for her then, Miss Delia,” the young man ventured to declare. “You don’t suffer much.” “No, for Francie I’m all there. I guess I could act for her.” He had a pause. “You act for her too much. If it wasn’t for you I think I could do something.” “Well, you’ve got to kill me first!” Delia Dosson replied. “I’ll come down on you somehow in the Reverberator” he went on. But the threat left her calm. “Oh that’s not what the people want.” “No, unfortunately they don’t care anything about MY affairs.” “Well, we do: we’re kinder than most, Francie and I,” said the girl. “But we desire to keep your affairs quite distinct from ours.”