"That is it. You ought to know. You could talk and say pleasant things, for instance. Don't you admit that you are very dull to-day?"
"I admit it. I regret it, and I wish I were not."
"You need not be. I am sure you can talk very well, when you please. You are not exactly funny at any time, but to-day you are funereal. You remind me of those big black horses they use for hearses, you know."
"Thank you, thank you," said Griggs, quietly, repeating the words without emphasis.
"I don't like you!" she exclaimed petulantly, but with a little laugh.
"I know that," he answered. "But I like you very much. We were probably meant to differ."
"Then you might amuse me. It's awfully dull when it rains. Pull the house down, or tear up silver scudi, or something."
"I am not Samson, and I am not a clown," observed Griggs, coldly.
"I shall never like you if you are so disagreeable," said Gloria, taking up a book, and settling herself to read.
"I am afraid you never will," answered Griggs, following her example.