Vivien rose directly.
"You've hurt Isobel, I think," she whispered to Harry. "Say something kind to her. Good-night, dear Harry!"
She ran off, ahead of Isobel, who was about to follow, with no word to Harry.
"Oh, wait a minute, please, Miss Vintry! I say, you know, I was only joking. Of course I know it's not your fault. I'm awfully sorry if I sounded rude. I thought you wouldn't mind a bit of chaff."
She stood looking at him with a hostile air.
"Why does it amuse you?" she asked.
The square question puzzled Harry, but he was apt at an encounter. He found a good answer. "I suppose because what you do—what you have to do—seems somehow so incongruous, coming from you. I won't do it again, if you don't like it. Please forgive me—and walk with me to the gate to prove it. There's no rule against that!"
For half a minute she stood, still looking at him. The moonlight was amply bright enough to let them see one another's faces.
"Very well," she said. "Come along."
Harry followed her with a pleasant feeling of curiosity. It was some little while before she spoke again. They had already reached the drive.