"You need not include me. Please do not smoke into my face."
The smoke was not very near her, but she made a movement with her hands as though brushing it away.
"I beg your pardon," he said politely, and he moved to the other side of the fireplace.
"How nervous you are!" she exclaimed. "Why can you not sit down?"
"Because I wish to stand," he answered, with returning impatience. "Because I am nervous, if you choose."
"You told me that you were perfectly well."
"So I am."
"If you were perfectly well, you would not be nervous," she replied.
He felt as though she were driving a sharp nail into his brain.
"It does not make any difference to you whether I am nervous or not," he said, and his eye began to lighten, as he sat down.