“And you stopped there and watched me.”
“I couldn't help it.”
She looked round and our eyes met. They were frank, grey eyes. An expression of merriment shot into them. I laughed.
Then she laughed: it was a delightful laugh, the laugh one would have expected from her.
“You might at least have coughed,” she suggested.
“It was so amusing,” I pleaded.
“I suppose it was,” she agreed, and held out her hand. “Did I hurt you?” she asked.
“Yes, you did,” I answered, taking it.
“Well, it was enough to annoy me, wasn't it?” she suggested.
“Evidently,” I agreed.