A voice behind her said:

"Nothing nicer than darkness, is there?"

She knew at once it was the one who was going to bite; the voice
was proper for him, having a nice, smothery sound. And looking round
gratefully, she said:

"Do you like dinner-parties?"

It was jolly to watch his eyes twinkle and his thin cheeks puff out. He
shook his head and muttered through that straggly moustache:

"You're a niece, aren't you? I know your father. He's a big man."

Hearing those words spoken of her father, Nedda flushed.

"Yes, he is," she said fervently.

Her new acquaintance went on:

"He's got the gift of truth--can laugh at himself as well as others;
that's what makes him precious. These humming-birds here to-night
couldn't raise a smile at their own tomfoolery to save their silly
souls."

He spoke still in that voice of smothery wrath, and Nedda thought: 'He
IS nice!'

"They've been talking about 'the Land'"--he raised his hands and ran