My voice shook with reproach.
"Oh!" I exclaimed, "how horrid of you to say such a thing."
At this he sat up straight under that tree and looked at me. A more normal expression came over his face.
"Horrid?" he echoed.
And then in quite his own brusque, ragging voice he declared:
"Mention any subject on earth to a woman, and she'll always find the unexpected comment. Always! Anyhow, this woman will. I don't understand why you've just called me 'horrid,' Joan!"
"You don't understand me at all when you think I understand so little," I said bitterly. "As if I didn't realize what it meant for a man to be wrecked by shell-shock. As if I thought it was the same thing as his being frightened, cowardly! Good heavens! As if I didn't know how you'd behaved out in France, Captain Holiday?"
Resentfully I wound up: "But you will persist in thinking me a fool!" I said bitterly.
Now he was quite himself again.
"Why should I think you a fool?" he barked.