“What is this for, then?”
“I just hoped that you might come out and sit for a while.”
“What reason had you to think that?”
“No reason. I just hoped it.”
“Oh! I thought you were in bed. I just came out to get a drink.”
Stonor, considerably dashed, took the cup and brought her water from the river. She sipped it and threw the rest away. He begged her to sit down.
She sat in a tentative sort of way, and declined to be wrapped up. “I can only stay a minute.”
“Have you a pressing engagement?” he asked aggrievedly.
“One must sleep some time,” she said rebukingly.
Stonor, totally unversed in the ways of women, was crushed by her changed air. He looked away, racking his brains to hit on what he could have done to offend her. She glanced at him out of the tail of her eye, and a wicked little dimple appeared in one cheek. He was sufficiently punished. She was mollified. But it was so sweet to feel her power over him, that she could not forbear using it just a little.