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"Sit on my knee and I'll put it around your neck," said he, fumbling
in his waistcoat pocket.
The child flushed painfully and her eyes fell again. "I don't want
to," she repeated.
Force got up from his chair, muttered something under his breath, and
moved away. He almost collided with Bingle.
"What's the matter with these kids of yours, Bingle?" he began
irascibly. "Why don't you bring them up properly? Teach 'em
politeness. Teach them how to behave toward--"
"My dear Force, has--has Kathleen been rude?" said Mr. Bingle in
distress.
"You are not to reprimand her," said Force hastily. "I wouldn't have
you do that for the world. She'd always have it in for me if she knew
that I--but, what nonsense I'm talking. They are little ingrates
anyhow--all of them. Good Lord, Bingle, I can't understand what you
see in the brats."
"I know you can't," said Mr. Bingle mildly. "That's just the
difference between us."
"There's only one in the whole lot that I'd have as a gift," said
Force, with a sidelong glance at Kathleen, who was joyous once more.


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