"I wasn't conscious that I was looking at you in any particular way. Why?"
"Oh, nothing. I guess I'm nervous, too."
"I dare say you are."
"Yes, I am."
Brockton rose slowly from his chair. Crossing over to where she sat, he stood with folded arms, looking her squarely in the face. There was a hard look in his eyes, a determined expression around his mouth. He was in one of his obstinate, ungovernable tempers, and Laura knew at once by his manner that a critical moment was at hand. He began ominously:
"You know I don't want to delve into a lot of past history at this time, but I've got to talk to you for a moment."
She rose quickly, and, going to the other side of the room, pretended to be busy. Nervously, she said:
"Why don't you do it some other time? I don't want to be talked to just now."
He followed her, and, in the same, hard, determined tone, said firmly:
"But I've got to do it, just the same."