She said:
‘Yes, yes! my dear,’ and continued to gaze at the photograph.
‘But,’ Tietjens said; he took her mittened hand and led her back to her chair: ‘What I’m concerned for at the moment is not my reputation, but your daughter Valentine’s.’
She sank down into the high chair, balloon–like, and came to rest:
‘Val’s reputation!’ she said, ‘Oh! you mean they’ll be striking her off their visiting lists. It hadn’t struck me. So they will!’ She remained lost in reflection for a long time.
Valentine was in the room, laughing a little. She had been giving the handy–man his dinner, and was still amused at his commendations of Tietjens.
‘You’ve got one admirer,’ she said to Tietjens. ‘“Punched that rotten strap,” he goes on saying, “like a gret of yaffle punchin’ a ‘ollow log!” He’s had a pin
