She looked up questioningly. His face was for the moment grim.
"I would take you by the shoulders and give you a jolly good shaking," he said.
She opened her eyes in astonishment. "Really, Nick!"
"Yes, really," he said. "You didn't hear a word of what I said just now."
"Oh, but I did!" she protested, flushing in earnest this time. "I heard you and I answered you."
"Oh, yes, you answered me," he said, "as kindly and indulgently as if I had been prattling like Peggy Musgrave. I won't put up with it any longer, my chicken. Understand?"
He put his hand under her chin and turned her face upwards.
She quivered a little and the tears sprang to her eyes. "I'm sorry,
Nick," she said.
He shook his head at her. "I won't have you sorry. That's just the grievance. Be hurt, be indignant, be angry! Sulk even! I know how to treat sulks. But don't cry, and don't be sorry! I shall be furious if you cry."
She smiled up at him wistfully, saying nothing.