“I hope not, sir,” stammered Faith in some confusion.
“WHY do you hope not? Come, now, WHY do you hope not? Give us a reason, girl—give us a reason.”
“It—it must be a very—uncomfortable place, sir.”
“Uncomfortable? All depends on your taste in comfortable, girl. I’d soon get tired of angels. Fancy old Susan in a halo, now!”
Faith did fancy it, and it tickled her so much that she had to laugh. Norman eyed her approvingly.