She was standing at the foot of the stairs frowning up at him. "On the left."
When he came down again some minutes later she was still standing where he had left her. She said: "I daresay it's very kind of you to take so much trouble, but I wish you'd go."
"I'm sure you do. Where did you learn your pretty manners?"
"Where you learnt yours!" she shot back at him.
"Do you know, I think I'm treating you with a remarkable amount of forbearance," he said. "Did anyone ever slap you really hard when you were a child?"
An unwilling smile crept into her eyes. "Often. Thank you so much for bringing my brother home. I'm most awfully grateful, and I do wish I could ask you to stop, only unfortunately I'm rather busy just now. How's that?"
"I prefer the original version. You might ask me into your sitting room."
"No doubt, but I'm not going to."
"Then I won't wait for the invitation," he said, and walked in.
She followed him, half angry, half amused. "Look here, I admit I owe you a debt of gratitude for not making trouble the other night, but that doesn't give you the right to force your presence on me. Please go. Why are you so anxious to pursue our acquaintance?"