He laughed, not perceptibly or audibly, of course, but somewhere inside him the bell rang.

No one could laugh more heartily at himself than Tommy, and none bore less malice to those who brought him to land.
"That, at any rate, makes me feel younger," he said candidly; and now the shyness was in full flight.
"Why ?" asked Grizel, still watchful.
"It is so like the kind of thing you used to say to me when we were boy and girl.

I used to enrage you very much, I fear," he said, half gleefully.
"Yes," she admitted, with a smile, "you did." "And then how you rocked your arms at me, Grizel! Do you remember ?" She remembered it all so well! This rocking of the arms, as they called it, was a trick of hers that signified sudden joy or pain.

They hung rigid by her side, and then shook violently with emotion.
"Do you ever rock them now when people annoy you ?" he asked.
"There has been no one to annoy me," she replied demurely, "since you went away." "But I have come back," Tommy said, looking hopefully at her arms.
"You see they take no notice of you." "They don't remember me yet.

As soon as they do they will cry out." Grizel shook her head confidently, and in this she was pitting herself against Tommy, always a bold thing to do.
"I have been to see Corp's baby," he said suddenly; and this was so important that she stopped in the middle of the road.
"What do you think of him ?" she asked, quite anxiously.
"I thought," replied Tommy, gravely, and making use of one of Grizel's pet phrases, "I thought he was just sweet." "Isn't he!" she cried; and then she knew that he was making fun of her.