Tom Murdock, the reader knows, had returned, but he had not as yet seen Winny Cavana.
Winny is such an innocent little donkey, so quaint and matter-of-factish.
He knew that Winny Cavana's holiday bonnet was trimmed with blue, and thought it not unlikely that Murdock knew it also.
Benjie understood quite enough to make him Winny's slave for life.
Winny had advised it, and he had grown dependent on her judgment.
Zoë and Winny joyfully agreed to learn anything, so that they might have something to do.
He had not time, however, to cut the cords by which Winny was bound.
Aunt Bertha had brought her as a birthday gift for Winny from Paris.
Winny was a child; that was all that could be said of her; and he, he was a man, grown up suddenly in a single night.
Winny asked, looking on half interestedly, half contemptuously.