"Thanks, no. I won't trouble you. It's just a step from here." He lifted his hat—an act which he had already performed a second or so previously—and walked onward. He had not betrayed the least sign of annoyance all through this transient and peculiarly awkward interview. He had been precisely the same serene, quiescent, demure Courtlandt as of old.
Pauline stood for some little time watching him as he gradually disappeared. When the curve near Castle Garden hid him, she gave an impatient, irritated sigh.
"You seem vexed," said Kindelon, who had been intently though furtively regarding her.
"I am vexed," she murmured. Her increased color was still a deep rose.
"Is there anything very horrible in walking for a little while on the Battery?" he questioned.
She gave a broken laugh. "Yes," she answered. "I'm afraid there is."
Kindelon shrugged his shoulders. "But surely you are your own mistress?"
"Rather too much so," she said, with lowered eyes. "At least that is what people will say, I suppose."
"I thought you were above idle and aimless comments."
"Let us go back to the carriage."