Pendleton drew out his case, selected a cigarette with great deliberation, chose a match from the box on the table in front of him, struck it, and very carefully made a light.
She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes, as one does who has been subjecting them to strain and needs to rest them. Then the tension of her nerves relaxed a trifle—she opened her eyes, to encounter Pendleton's looking at her questioningly.
"Well?" she said, with her sweet smile. "What—is it?"
"What is what?" he answered.
"What is it that you want to know?" she asked.
"Nothing."
"What is it then I can tell you?"
"Whatever you wish to tell me."
"What would you soonest know? Ask—I am willing that you should. I shall be glad to answer—you."
"I was wondering, Stephanie," he said, after a pause. "I was wondering—why you did it?"