She opened her eyes, and stared at him hopelessly. Paul walked away to look for some cigarette papers in the pocket of a coat.
"Was it?" he repeated, with his back turned to her. Katharine struggled to answer him.
"You have never spoken to me like that, before," she stammered at last.
"You have never given me any cause, have you?" said Paul, rather awkwardly.
"But what have I done?" she asked, taking a step towards him. "I didn't know you would mind. I always come to you when I am unhappy; you told me I might. And I was unhappy this evening; so I came. Why should it be different this evening? I don't understand what you mean. Why are you angry with me? You have never been angry before. What have I done?"
"My dear child, there is no occasion for heroics," said Paul, speaking very gently. "I am not angry with you at all. But you must own that it is at least unusual to call upon a man, uninvited, at this unearthly hour. And hadn't you better sit down, now you have come?"
Katharine did not move.
"What does it matter if it is unusual?" she asked. "You know I have been here sometimes, as late as this, before. There is no harm in it, is there? Paul! tell me what I have done to annoy you?"
Paul gave up rummaging in his coat pocket, and came and sat on the edge of the table, and made a cigarette.
"I seem to remember having this same argument with you before," he observed. "Don't you think it is rather futile to go all through it again? You know quite well that it is entirely for your sake that I wish to be careful. Hadn't we better change the subject? If you are going to stop, you might be more comfortable in a chair."