II
The following afternoon about teatime Stefan bicycled up from the station. Mary, who was in the sitting room, heard him calling from the gate, but did not go to meet him. He hurried into the room and kissed her half-turned cheek effusively.
“Well, dear, aren't you glad to see me?” he asked rather nervously.
“Do you know that you've been away six days, Stefan, and have only troubled to telephone me twice?” she answered, in a voice carefully controlled.
“You don't mean it!” he exclaimed. “I had no idea it was so long.”
“Hadn't you?”
He fidgeted. “Well, dear, you know I'm frightfully keen on this new picture, and the journeys back and forth waste so much time. But as for the telephoning, I'm awfully sorry. I've been so absorbed I simply didn't remember. Why didn't you ring me up?”
“I didn't wish to interrupt a sitting. I rang twice in the evenings, but you were out.”
“Yes; I've been trying to amuse myself a little.” He was rocking from one foot to the other like a detected schoolboy.