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"That girl has got some class to her. Why is it, Bingle, that she
dislikes me? All the rest of 'em are friendly enough--too friendly, if
anything--but she won't even look at me."
"That's the woman of it," said Mr. Bingle.
"What's the woman of it?" demanded Force gruffly. "What do you mean by
'woman of it'? Don't be silly, Bingle. She's a mere child."
"She'll come around all right," said Mr. Bingle gaily. "Give her time,
old fellow, give her time."
"Good heavens, what a racket they're making," growled Force. "Have you
no control over them, Bingle? I'd send the whole lot of them to bed,
hang me if I wouldn't."
"On Christmas Eve? Oh, no, you wouldn't, old--Where are you going?"
"I'm going into the library to smoke," said Force. "I can't stand the
row."
"Now, don't do that," pleaded Mr. Bingle, grasping his arm. "Wait a
minute. I'll speak to Kathie. She--"
"Do nothing of the sort," snapped Force. "She doesn't like me, and
that's all there is to it. I've taken a fancy to the child, Bingle--I
never liked a kid before in all my life.


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