"Vi," said Leighton, tensely, "did he follow?"
Vi raised herself on her arms and stared at him for a moment before she gasped:
"You fool, do you suppose I would have cared if he had followed?" Then shame gripped her, and she threw herself full-length again, face down. Her shoulders shook, but she made no sound.
Leighton waited half an hour. He spent the time walking up and down and smoking cigarettes. He was no longer frowning. At the end of the half-hour he caught Vi by the arms and lifted her to her feet.
"Come on," he said.
Vi stared at him as one half-awakened.
"I don't want to go anywhere," she said. "I'm very well here."
"Nonsense!" said Leighton, "you don't realize what you're doing to yourself. On my word, you look positively puttyish."
"Puttyish!" cried Vi, a flush of anger rising to her face. "Grapes, you're brutal! Since when have you learned to trample on a woman?"
"That's better," said Leighton, coolly. "I thought it would rouse you a bit."