"I couldn't help it," she protested, rubbing the arms of her chair nervously with open palms. "You would talk to me. And it's—it's so hard to be rude."
"——in return, eh?"
"Yes. You know you shouldn't have done it."
"You had your revenge next day, remember!" he said, and stopped abruptly, as another absurdly big footman, who should have been breaking the glebe in Canada, entered with the tea-tray.
"Shall I turn on the light, miss?" the man asked, disposing various silver-covered dishes on the wide hearth.
"No!—oh yes—if you please, Philip. Why do you say 'revenge'?" she asked, when they were alone again. "I'm not a revengeful person."
"We shall see," he said, taking a cup from her hands. "Power's a great temptation."
Under his steady gaze, which never left her face, except to scan her figure, the ministry of the tea-table was a sad ordeal. In the intervals of discharging her duties she called the hound to her and fondled him anew. That hid one arm, anyway.
"I waited for you a whole morning."
"Oh! I don't believe that!" Said without any coquetry.