Dinah's cheeks burned again. "Yes," she said, after a moment. "We made it up this afternoon."
"That was very lucky—for him," observed Scott rather dryly.
Dinah made a swift leap for the commonplace. "I hate being cross with people," she said, "or to have them cross with me; don't you?"
"I think it is sometimes unavoidable," said Scott gravely.
"Oh, surely you are never cross!" said Dinah impetuously. "I can't imagine it."
"Wait till you see it!" said Scott, with a smile.
They entered the hotel together. Dinah was tingling with excitement. She had managed to escape from her discomfiture, but she still felt that any prolonged intercourse with the man beside her would bring it back. She was beginning to know Scott as one who would not hesitate to say exactly what he thought, and not for all she possessed in the world would she have had him know what had passed in that far corner of the rink so short a time before.
She chattered inconsequently upon ordinary topics as they ascended the stairs together, but when they reached the door of Isabel's sitting-room she became suddenly shy again.
"Hadn't I better run and take off my things?" she whispered. "I feel so untidy."
He looked at her. She was clad in the white woollen cap and coat that she had worn in the day. Her eyes were alight and sparkling, her brown face flushed. She looked the very incarnation of youth.