Part 9 (1/2)
”What do you read?”
”There seemed to be indicated characteristics there, the exact opposite of those you possess.”
”Tell me?”
”No.”
She drew her hand away a trifle angrily: obstinacy opposed to curiosity is as flint to steel. Fingers, trembling a little, began putting on her glove. The look in her eyes could not be truthfully described as softness; all the same it was very becoming.
He was not insensible of her feeling, for the birth of which he was responsible. Just restrained her: put his hand out on to hers. A simple act, but one he performed more gravely than the occasion warranted; said:
”Don't be angry.”
Then hesitated; conscious, now he had spoken, that the admonition--by presupposing cause for it--was not likely to improve matters. Felt that he had put a large-sized foot into it.
”Angry!”
The glitter in her eyes, as she repeated his word, warned him that his intuition was correct; made him say:
”Well--annoyed.”
”You are so--so provoking!”
”I am sorry----”
”No, you are not! You are not sorry a little bit!”
”Believe me----”
”If you were sorry for your rudeness----”
”Rudeness!”
”Yes!”
She spoke with a certain tone of defiance; her anger blinding her to the fitness of things--he was really but an acquaintance; continued:
”I think so. Tell me, what did you read?”
His silence incensed her more. Tapping her foot impatiently at his manifest reluctance to answer, she went on:
”What does it matter? You say you read the exact opposite of the truth.”
”If you insist----”
She was in buckram in a moment; pride stiffened her. Drawing herself up, she interrupted him; spoke with an imperious little gesture:
”Oh, no! I have no right to do that. I merely asked.”