" The creaking stopped.
"Is that you, George?" Fanny asked abruptly.
"Is that me what?"
"Whistling 'On Yonder Rock Reclining'?"
"It's I," said Isabel.
"Oh," Fanny said dryly.
"Does it disturb you?"
"Not at all. I had an idea George was depressed about something, and
merely wondered if he could be making such a cheerful sound." And
Fanny resumed her creaking.
"Is she right, George?" his mother asked quickly, leaning forward in
her chair to peer at him through the dusk. "You didn't eat a very
hearty dinner, but I thought it was probably because of the warm
weather. Are you troubled about anything?"
"No!" he said angrily.
"That's good. I thought we had such a nice day, didn't you?"
"I suppose so," he muttered, and, satisfied, she leaned back in her
chair; but "Fra Diavolo" was not revived. After a time she rose, went
to the steps, and stood for several minutes looking across the street.
Then her laughter was faintly heard.
"Are you laughing about something?" Fanny inquired.
"Pardon?" Isabel did not turn, but continued her observation of what
had interested her upon the opposite side of the street.
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