February 9
… “Now, W⸺, talk to me prettily,” she said as soon as the door was closed on them.
“Oh! make him read a book,” whined her sister, but we talked of marriage instead—in all its aspects. Bless their hearts, I found these two dear young things simply sodden with the idea of it.
In the middle I did a knee-jerk which made them scream with laughing—the patellar reflex was new to them, so I seized a brush from the grate, crossed to Her and gently tapped: out shot her foot, and ⸻ cried: “Oh, do do it to me as well.” It was rare fun.
“Oh! pretty knee, what do I see?
And he stooped and he tied up my garter for me.”