“Is my temper improved?”
“How can I tell? I have had no practical demonstration of one of your passions as yet. But I should say—your temper was now as equable and unruffled as the corn in that field.”
“How is yours?” abruptly.
“Mine! Much as usual, thank you,” with an amused, superior smile.
“Well, now, as you have answered my questions, it is only fair to answer yours.”
“Yes,” he replied, looking at her eagerly.
“I would rather”—emphasizing every word—“be Alice Somebody than anyone else in the whole world. Now are you much wiser?” she added, giving him a mischievous glance.
“Of course! I KNOW, Alice, although you won’t tell me. But even if we had never met, you would not be Alice Saville now; so what is the good of wishing for your maiden-name? You would have been married long ago—subject to my consent,” with a sardonic smile he could not express.
“We were very happy once, Reg,” she said with a deep sigh. “Neither of us had tempers—once. Have you forgotten?”
He has not forgotten; he never can forget. Nevertheless, he abruptly put an end to her reminiscences, saying: