"Oh, you find it laughable, do you?" she cried. "A gentleman would at least have concealed his amusement!"
He grew suddenly grave, and seemed not a little surprised.
"I beg your pardon," he said. "I hope you were not hurt."
She looked at him scornfully without replying, and then walked to the mantel, where there was a small antique mirror of silver.
"Thank you, not in the least."
Her tone was no warmer than an arctic night. She gathered her hair, and began to twist it up. He followed and stood behind her with an air at once deprecatory and insinuating.
"I shouldn't think you could see in that thing," he observed.
She took no notice of his words.
"If I laughed," continued he, "it was only from nervousness. I was carried away"—
"I observed that you were," she interrupted icily.