He rubbed his hands over his eyes and looked round.
“What is it, Maggie? Was I asleep?”
(Was the boy acting? Surely it was good acting!)
Maggie threw herself down on her knees by the chair.
“Laurie! Laurie! I beg you not to go to see Mr. Vincent. It’s bad for you. … I do wish you wouldn’t.”
He still blinked at her a moment.
“I don’t understand. What do you mean, Maggie?”
She stood up, ashamed of her impulsiveness.
“Only I wish you wouldn’t go and see that man. Laurie, please don’t.”
He stood up too, stretching. Every sign of nervousness seemed gone.
“Not see Mr. Vincent? Nonsense; of course I shall. You don’t understand, Maggie.”