He paid no heed. “Are you coming or not?” he asked with a tinge of impatience.
“Not,” answered Polly. “I am used to being asked, rather than commanded.”
“Pshaw!” David scorned. “Do you want a scene?”
“No. I want to sit still. I am tired.” She sighed wearily.
“Why didn’t you say so before?” pettishly. He took the chair that Russell had vacated.
“Let’s go home,” he resumed. “You are as sick of all this as I am.”
“I am sick of the way you behave,” she returned. “You make me ashamed of you.”
“That should be reversed,” observed David coldly.
A tiny smile puckered Polly’s lips.
“Oh, yes, laugh!” he burst out. “It is what you have been doing all day.”