"Yes," she said, seriously, "I have a plan."
"And you mean that I have no right to inquire what it is? You are perfectly correct; I have no right, and I beg your pardon for the liberty that I have taken. I think that I had better go."
His manner was so restless, his voice so uneven and so angry, that Elizabeth lifted her eyes and studied his face a little before she replied.
"Percival," she said at last, "why are you so angry with me?"
"I'm not angry with you."
"With whom or with what, then?"
"With circumstances, I suppose. With life in general," he answered, bitterly, "when it sets up such barriers between you and me."
"What barriers?"
"My dear Elizabeth, you used to have faculties above those of the rest of your sex. Don't let your new position weaken them. I have surely not the least need to tell you what I mean."
"You overrate my faculties," said Elizabeth. "You always did. I never do know what you mean unless you tell me. I am not good at guessing."