"I like fish for breakfast," she said, as she turned from the ardour of his glance.
Presently, when they had "jacked up," as he called it, and walked together across the meadows in the direction of the town, she said little; she replied to his questions in monosyllables. She was wondering at and a little afraid of the accentuated feeling of helplessness in his presence which had taken possession of her. It was as if she had no mind of her own, but must submit her will to the wishes of the man at her side. They paused at the entrance to the churchyard, where he asked:
"And what have you been doing all this time?"
She told him of her visit to the Trivetts.
His face clouded as he said:
"Fancy you hobnobbing with those common people!"
"But I like them—the Trivetts, I mean. Whoever I knew, I should go and see them if I liked them," she declared, her old spirit asserting itself.
He looked at her in surprise, to say:
"I like to see you angry; you look awfully fine when that light comes into your eyes."
"And I don't like you at all when you say I shouldn't know homely, kindly people like the Trivetts."