Mr. Atwater was silent; he looked down and caught a clownish garnet
gleam out of a blackness neighbouring his knee. "Well, see here," he
said. "Why can't you--why can't you----"
"Why can't I what?"
"Why can't you sit out in the yard the next time he calls here, instead
of on the porch where it blows all through the house? It's just as
pleasant to sit under the trees, isn't it?"
"Pleasanter," said Julia.