Arthur Courtnay, and every time
Tinker's shadow fell on them he looked up and frowned.
At last he said, "Go away, my lad, and play somewhere else."
"I don't want any cheek from a hairdresser's assistant," said Tinker
with blithe readiness.
There is nothing so wounding as the truth, and Courtnay knew that he
was weak about the hair; he never could bring himself to keep it
properly cropped; it was so glossy. His florid face became quickly
florider, and he cried, "You impudent young dog!"
"Do not speak to me until you've been introduced. You're always
forcing your acquaintance upon someone, Roland Macassar," said Tinker.
It was again the wounding truth; and Courtnay sprang up and dashed for
him. Tinker bolted round a group of shrubs, Courtnay after him.
Finding him unpleasantly quick on his feet Tinker bolted into the
shrubs. Courtnay plunged after him right into a well-grown specimen of
the flowering cactus. It brought him up short. He began to swear, and
though he could have sworn with equal fluency and infelicity in French,
German, or Italian, in the depth of his genuine emotion he returned to
the tongue of his boyhood, and swore in English. When he came out of
the shrubs, adorned on one side of his face and both hands with neat
little beads of blood, he found that Claire had risen from her seat,
and was looking shocked, surprised, and worst of all, disgusted.
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