“That’s why you begin it, I suppose.”
“I cannot remember——” she said loftily.
He laughed sarcastically.
“Well—if you’re so beastly cut up about it——”
He put this tentatively, expecting the soft answer. But she refused to speak, and went on stitching. He fidgeted about, twisted his cap uncomfortably, and sighed. At last he said:
“Well—you—have we done then?”
She had the vast superiority, in that she was engaged in ostentatious work. She could fix the cloth, regard it quizzically, rearrange it, settle down and begin to sew before she replied. This humbled him. At last she said:
“I thought so this afternoon.”
“But, good God, Lettie, can’t you drop it?”
“And then?”—the question startled him.