"Oh, delightful! But I don't see what's the good of it, as we're placed."
"Not to have a nice quiet talk?"
"I have nothing to talk about." He seemed nervous.
"Are you going to be like this when we're married?" asked Sylvia in a disappointed voice.
"Not at all!"
"Oh, I'm so glad! If you'll excuse my saying so, Frank darling, you seem to me to have a rather sulky disposition."
He seized the papers and threw them on the floor.
"Sulky? I, sulky? You never made a greater mistake. You're not a good judge of character, Sylvia. Don't go in for it. Leave it alone. You'll never make anything of it, you haven't the gift. As it happens, I have a very good temper, except that now and then I'm 'rather violent when roused,' as the palmists say, but sulky—never!"
Sylvia seemed to have made up her mind to be irritating. She laughed a good deal. (She looked most lovely when laughing.)
"What are you laughing at?" he asked.