She laughed, but it had not a mirthful sound. "How funny you are! Strangers don't quarrel. They've nothing to quarrel about!"
"But you are angry."
"Nonsense!" she said languidly. "I'm very much obliged to you for your help. But there's nothing else you can do."
"Meaning I'd better beat it."
She was magnificently silent.
"I'm going. But it's hard to go, not knowing what's the matter."
She had the air of one dealing with a trying child. "How often must I tell you that there's nothing in the world the matter?"
"You are not the same as you were when I came."
For some reason this flicked her on the raw. She flushed. She stamped her foot. "You're—you're impossible!" she cried. "Will you go!"
As Evan backed out she all but shut the door in his face. How astonished would he have been could he have seen through the door how she flung herself face down on the sofa and wept. That was the softer girlish part of her. But not for long. She sat up and digging her chin into her palm thought long and hard. That was the warrior.