“Admirable prospect,” she said lightly. Her manner unmistakably conveyed the information that his call had drawn to an end. He clearly resisted this for a minute or two, and then stirred. “You must come again.”
“Why?” he demanded abruptly, grasping his hat, which had reposed on the carpet at his side.
“News from California, from the world outside, is rare in Cottarsport. You must see that you are an interesting figure to us.”
“Why?” he persisted, frowning.
She rose, her face as hard as his own, but with a faint smile in place of his lowering expression. “No, you haven't changed; not even to the extent of a superficial knowledge of drawing rooms.”
“I ought to have seen better than come.”
“The ignorance was all my own.”
“But once——” he paused.
“Should be enough.” Her smile widened. Yet she was furious with herself for having quarreled with him; the descent from the altitude of the Canderays had been enormous. What extraordinary influence had colored her acts in the past few days?
Mrs. Cozzens, at breakfast, inquired placidly how the evening before had progressed, and Honora made a gesture expressive of its difficulties. “You will create such responsibilities for yourself,” the elder stated.