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K here. Mother will have to let me." And he jumped down from the wall
into Edwin's garden, carelessly, his hands in his pockets, with a
familiar ease of gesture that implied practice. He had in fact often
done it before. But just this time-- perhaps he was troubled by the
unaccustomed clothes--having lighted on his feet, he failed to maintain
his balance and staggered back against the wall. "Now, clumsy!" Edwin
commented. The boy turned pale, and bit his lip, and then Edwin could
see the tears in his eyes. One of his peculiarities was that he had no
shame whatever about crying. He could not, or he would not, suffer
stoically. Now he put his hands to his back, and writhed. "Hurt
yourself?" Edwin asked. George nodded. He was very white, and startled.
At first he could not command himself sufficiently to be able to
articulate. Then he spluttered, "My back!" He subsided gradually into a
sitting posture. Edwin ran to him, and picked him up. But he screamed
until he was set down. At the open drawing-room window, Maggie was
arranging curtains. Edwin reluctantly left George for an instant and
hurried to the window, "I say, Maggie, bring a chair or something out,
will you? This dashed kid's fallen and hurt himself." "I'm not
surprised," said Maggie calmly. "What surprises me is that you s