“Have you got a headache?”
“No! I haven’t got a headache. Only please go away. I don’t want to see anybody.”
I heard her go softly downstairs again—then the kitchen door opening, and a murmur of voices.
His voice.
Ah! that brought my anger surging over me at last like a great wave. I sat bolt upright, with a crumple of the quilt clutched in each hand.
How dared he! How dared he!
Taking odious advantage of a situation! This was not what I agreed to when I said I would be nominally engaged to him.
This was not unavoidable, like that last time.
Oh! He needn’t have pointed out to me the difference between that time and this! I’d thought I was angry then. My anger now was as different a thing as the difference between those two sorts of kisses.
Oh!