"Aren't you well, Mr. Dene?" she inquired.
"Well," he repeated with some asperity. "Of course I'm well."
"Oh!" she said, disconcerted by his manner. Then for a moment there was silence.
"Why shouldn't I be well?" he demanded uncompromisingly.
"No reason at all," said Dorothy indifferently, "only——" She paused.
"Only what?" he enquired sharply.
"Only," she continued calmly, "you seem a little—a little—may I say jumpy?" She looked up at him with a smile.
Without replying he sprang from his chair, and once more started pacing the room with short, nervous strides, his head thrust forward, his left hand in his jacket pocket, his right hanging loosely at his side.
"That's it!" he exclaimed at last.
Dorothy continued to regard him in wonder. Something of vital importance must have happened, she decided, to produce this effect on a man of John Dene's character.