"Not agree with me? But you told me not to engage Miss Brent! Didn't you tell me not to engage her?"
She made a hesitating motion of assent.
"But, good Lord, how was I to help myself? No man was ever in such a quandary!" he broke off, leaping back to the other side of the argument.
"No," she said, looking up at him suddenly. "I believe that, for the only time in your life, you were sorry then that you hadn't married me."
She held his eyes for a moment with a look of gentle malice; then he laughed, and drew forth his cigarette-case.
"Oh, come—you've inverted the formula," he said, reaching out for the enamelled match-box at his elbow. She let the pleasantry pass with a slight smile, and he went on reverting to his grievance: "Why didn't you want me to engage Miss Brent?"
"Oh, I don't know...some instinct."
"You won't tell me?"
"I couldn't if I tried; and now, after all——"
"After all—what?"