For one moment there was a dangerous look in Paddy’s eyes; then Doreen chimed in with:
“Don’t be silly, Paddy. Of course Lawrie will take you home. As if he were likely to do otherwise.”
Paddy saw there was no help for it, and tripped down the steps and into the hansom without giving him a chance to offer his hand. Lawrence gave the address and stepped in after her.
“Do you mind my cigarette?” he asked, to which Paddy replied coldly, “Not in the least,” and drew further back into her corner.
“You seem more angry with me than ever to-night,” he began presently.
By this time Paddy had just about exhausted her none too large supply of cold hauteur, so, feeling she must vent her anger somehow, she turned upon him suddenly, which secretly pleased Lawrence because it was so much more natural to her.
“Of course I am angry with you,” she exclaimed. “I think you have behaved abominably. You have simply laid traps for me, first over the dances and then over this drive. You know perfectly well I would have refused both if Doreen and Miss Carew had not been with us.”
“That was strategy. They say all is fair in love and war.”
“I don’t care what they say; you are a paltry enemy, because you take a mean advantage.”
“And supposing I weren’t an enemy at all?”