There was more laughter.
“Won’t you come out?”
There was no answer.
“Oh, very well then,” said Mr. Cardan, in the tone of one who is deeply offended, “I shall go away. Good-bye.” He retraced his steps for a few yards, then turned off to the right along a little path that led to the garden gate. When he was about three-quarters of the way along it, he heard the sound of hurrying footsteps coming up behind him. He walked on, pretending to notice nothing. There was a touch on his arm.
“Don’t go. Please.” Miss Elver’s voice spoke imploringly. He looked round, as though startled. “I won’t run away again. But you mustn’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” asked Mr. Cardan.
Miss Elver put up a screening hand and turned away. “Like I don’t know what,” she said.
Mr. Cardan thought he perfectly understood; he pursued the subject no further. “Well, if you promise not to run away,” he said, “I won’t go.”
Miss Elver’s face shone with pleasure and gratitude. “Thank you,” she said. “Should we go and look at the chickens? They’re round at the back.”
They went round to the back. Mr. Cardan admired the chickens. “You like animals?” he asked.