And then the expected “inspiration of the moment” came.
“A little,” she added.
And so it was done. Her foot had indeed been twisted slightly; she had truly, truly felt a twinge of 79 pain. At another time she would have thought no more about it, but now––The color rushed back into her cheeks; she fetched a smile that was half a grimace; and the game was on again.
Haig reached a hand to her. She took it, and let him draw her to her feet.
“Try the ankle––just a step!” he commanded.
She rested her weight on her left foot.
“Oh!” she cried out, and looked helplessly at Haig.
A shadow, unmistakably of annoyance, passed over his face.
“You’re not going to faint, are you?” he asked, looking keenly at her.
Her color always came and went easily, and now, a little frightened by her bold deception, she was pale again.