"The truth is," he said, "that Antonia, not to put too fine a point on it, is not personally clean."
Miss Exeter smiled, for to her mind the tone of agony in his voice was exaggerated.
"But at a certain age no children are," she said.
"But most children are forced to be, and my sister lets this child run wild, so that people talk about it. I suppose I oughtn't to mind so much," he said, looking at her rather wistfully; "but you can't imagine how I hate to think that people discuss Antonia's being dirty. And all my sister says is that she's so glad the child isn't vain. Oh, Miss Exeter, if you could get Antonia dressed like a nice, well brought up little girl I think I'd do anything in the world for you."
She promised that too. In fact, by the time she finally left the office and was on her way uptown, late for an engagement she had with Horace Bayne, she was alarmed to remember how many things she had promised--not only to stay until he came back but to write to him every day, a long report of just what had happened in the family and what her impressions of it were.
"Not letters," he had said, "because I shan't answer them; but reports--reports on my family, as I am going to make a report on this mine."