"That wasn't flattery. If I set out to flatter you, I should talk in quite a different way to that."
"Do you know," she went on quickly, "when I met you in the hotel my heart was beating terribly. I was afraid you might be angry!"
"How could I be angry?"
"I don't know," she said; "but sometimes, Bernard, you used to be so dreadfully angry at the things I did."
Somehow the recollection of these things appeared to sweep over her, for she drew her hand away from John's arm.
"I thought we were going to talk of cheerful things," John reminded her. He began to draw her attention to the quaintness of the streets, and managed, until their return to the hotel, to keep her mind fully occupied with trivialities.
When they reached the little sitting-room at the hotel, he rang the bell and ordered dinner to be prepared for two at seven o'clock.
"May we have it here in the sitting-room?" he asked the waiter.
"Certainly, sir," answered the man.
Elaine, whose air of constraint had quite vanished again, went to her room, took off her hat, and put on an afternoon blouse. When she returned to the sitting-room John noticed her little attempt to dress herself for the evening.