“Would you like to come with me?” she asked, with punctilious politeness.
“I am coming with you,” replied Denis.
Again they went on in silence, as long as Emily could endure it.
“Haven’t you anything to say?” she cried at last. “Haven’t—”
“I’ve a good deal to say,” he interrupted; “but not here.”
That was too much for Emily. They were at a crisis in their lives. She was waiting in desperate anxiety for what he would say, and he couldn’t speak, because they were in the street, and some one might possibly hear! He couldn’t for an instant forget his stiff Lanier propriety.
“You’re angry,” she said. “I can see that. Well, it’s no use. I said you’d have to choose, and I meant it. There’s not a bit of use in your coming to quarrel with me. If you’re disgusted with me, go back to your—”
“Look here!” said Denis. “Are you trying to be funny?”
Emily was very much taken aback at this question.
“Funny?” she repeated.