She managed a disarming smile.
“Mother and Allie mustn’t know a thing about it. I don’t want to alarm them; they’re so excitable. To-morrow, I’ll be quite all right again.... You must help me.”
“Why, surely; you know I will.... But, dearest——”
“Oh, please! Don’t make a fuss.” Her tone was sharp, and at once he fell silent, watching her face anxiously.
“Do you love me?” he queried in a low voice.
She did not answer; she was in no mood for love-making. In a moment, she moved with difficulty to the window, and stood there, fighting her pain, and looking down vacantly into the street. Provokingly, tears rose to her eyes. She was afraid she was going to cry. She could see Allie returning with the square paper box held with a finger by its thin wire handle, and presently the great front door of the house shut with a jangle.
Roy’s arm stole about her waist, but its touch hurt her.
“Oh, please!” she begged crossly.
“I’m sorry,—awfully sorry. I forgot.... You’re in terrible pain, aren’t you? ... Shall I get a doctor? ... Don’t you want to lie down? ... Would you like me to go?”
She wanted to slap him.