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and it was easy to imagine that young men found her unap-
proachable. Sally was old for her years: she had been used
to help her mother in the household work and in the care of
the children, so that she had acquired a managing air, which
made her mother say that Sally was a bit too fond of having
things her own way. She did not speak very much, but as
she grew older she seemed to be acquiring a quiet sense of
humour, and sometimes uttered a remark which suggested
that beneath her impassive exterior she was quietly bub-
bling with amusement at her fellow-creatures. Philip found
that with her he never got on the terms of affectionate in-
timacy upon which he was with the rest of Athelny’s huge
family. Now and then her indifference slightly irritated him.
There was something enigmatic in her.
When Philip gave her the necklace Athelny in his boister-
ous way insisted that she must kiss him; but Sally reddened
and drew back.
‘No, I’m not going to,’ she said.
‘Ungrateful hussy!’ cried Athelny. ‘Why not?’
‘I don’t like being kissed by men,’ she said.
Philip saw her embarrassment, and, amused, turned
Athelny’s attention to something else. That was never a very
difficult thing to do. But evidently her mother spoke of the
matter later, for next time Philip came she took the oppor-
tunity when they were alone for a couple of minutes to refer
to it.
‘You didn’t think it disagreeable of me last week when I
wouldn’t kiss you?’
‘Not a bit,’ he laughed.