There was patience in his look, but he redeemed it with a laugh. "I beg your pardon. Theresa, will you be considerate of my mother?"
"I'll try."
"I thought you prided yourself on your tact."
"I do. I have it highly developed, but the devil sometimes steals it."
"You are a little childish."
"Very!"
"And my mother is dear to me."
"So was mine to me. She was—sweet, my mother was, but that didn't prevent my getting angry with her. I wish I didn't get so angry. Do you understand that you're engaged to a volcano, an active one?"
"I'm beginning to."
"And I'm in eruption now. Be careful."