"We'll let that pass. On the other hand, there's just as little reason why you should be displeased with me."
"Are you sure that I am displeased?" inquired Alison, suspecting his intention of leading her up to some definite expression of indignation. This would, as she realized, be tantamount to the betrayal of a greater interest in his doings than she was prepared to show.
"Your appearance suggested it; but we'll call it disgusted, if you like," he retorted with amusement in his eyes.
It occurred to Alison that as he had evidently taken her resentment for granted it might after all be wiser to prove it justifiable.
"Then," she said, "a scene of the kind you figured in last night is naturally repugnant to any one not accustomed to it."
"Did it jar on Mrs. Farquhar?"
"No," Alison admitted, "I don't think it did."
"Then she's not accustomed to such scenes either. Rows of any kind really aren't very common in western Canada—but she seems to have more comprehension than you have."
This was turning the tables with a vengeance, and Alison was a trifle disconcerted, for instead of standing on his defense the man had unexpectedly proceeded to attack.
"Do you care to explain that?" she asked.