The voice was so very gentle that it hurt Dick to hurt her. But he persisted—the little wretch, to treat his best friend so!—she deserved it. Yawning, he said:
"Oh, I feel like spending a merry Christmas. The kind of thing that clings to Christmas cards and Dickens was so full of, you know. I am afraid there isn't enough merriment to go round here; not enough to satisfy a man with a large appetite for it."
"Why not?"
"Way it is dished up, I suppose: surroundings. I don't like your friends——"
"My friends!"
The foot slipped off the pedal: the note of temper sounded as she blazed out indignantly:
"Who asked them here?"
Dick shrugged his shoulders. Otherwise disregarded her interruption as he continued:
"—you positively insult mine."
"Insult!"