"You went to bed because you were ill," he said.
"I wasn't," she said indignantly. Did he, too, think she did not know how to control herself in the presence of cake?
"What? You were not?"
There was a note of such sharp disappointment in his voice that in her turn she peered at his face.
"Now kindly tell me, Robert," she said, giving his sleeve a slight pull, "what it is you are really talking about."
"You did not feel faint? You feel quite well? You do not feel ill after all?"
Again the note of astonished disappointment.
"But why should I feel ill?"
"Then why did you ask to be taken home almost before we had arrived?"
For the first time she heard anger in his voice, anger and a great aggrievedness.