She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. You are marvelous!” Carolyn Diedermayer exclaimed. “I thought you wanted to have a talk to me,” she said. It brought no coconut. When she released him he ran down the beach for a stick which he fetched and laid at her feet. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her.
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