“I didn’t ask for your opinion of Miss Merriwell, I asked how she is—in herself. Is she in fine fettle? Is she happy?” Is she as miserable as me? “She is as fit as a butcher’s dog and seems as happy as a pig in—” Giles held up his palm to stay the inevitable expletive and Dalton grinned. “But that wasn’t what you were really asking, was it? You wanted to know if she is pining away for you.”
