I was seeing Duncan out this afternoon, Flo clinging to my leg, when Toby came clattering down the stairs. The moment he saw us he propped, the debate clearly written on his face—so far he’s managed to avoid meeting Duncan. But then he shrugged, kept on coming down. It’s always hard for a short man to have to look all that way up as he sticks out his hand for the introductory shake, but Toby did his duty, tried to look a very tall man’s equal.
As he made his escape out the door, he flung a question at me. “What’s the matter with our Pappy? She looks terrible.” Then he was gone.
I don’t see much of her, is the trouble. But tomorrow morning I’m going to get up early and tackle her.