"I beg your pardon. You are become so critical of words and phrases. To take us, I'll say."
"That wouldn't be a very agreeable walk, Helen, whilst you are in this strange mood. What does it all mean? I never foresaw the possibility of misunderstandings such as this between us. Is it I who am to blame, or you? Have I offended you?"
"No, dear," was the dreamy response.
"Then why do you seem to wish to quarrel with me?"
Helen had the look of one who strugglingly overcomes a paroxysm of anger. She stood up.
"Would you leave me alone for a little, Irene? I'm not quite able to talk. I think we've both of us been doing too much—overtaxing ourselves. It has got on my nerves."
"Yes I will go," was the answer, spoken very quietly. "And to-morrow morning I will return to London."
She moved away.
"Irene!"
"Yes——?"