"But I really was sorry," she protested. "And I knew I ought to have told you so before. But, somehow"—she flushed under his eyes—"I hadn't the courage. Besides, I didn't know you."
"It wasn't a very serious offence, was it?" he asked.
"I should have been furious in your place," she said.
"It takes more than that to make me angry," said Jeff Ironside.
She put out her hand to him impulsively, the flush still in her cheeks.
"I am still perfectly furious with myself," she told him, "whenever I think about it."
His hand enclosed hers in an all-enveloping grasp. "Then I shouldn't think about it any more if I were you," he said.
"Very well, I won't," said Doris; adding with her own quaint air of graciousness, "and thank you for being so friendly about it."
He released her hand somewhat abruptly and got to his feet. "How is your shoulder now? Any better?"