She did not answer, but her head sank against his shoulder.
Outside the cabin, she heard Philip's step in the snow.
"No!" she cried frantically, filled with dread. "No, no! Let me go!"
Lawrence, too, heard, and released her, stepping back indifferently, as though just going toward a chair.
The door opened, and Philip entered.
"Oh, you're back, I see." The artist was coldly cordial in his greeting.
"And I see you, which is more important," Philip laughed.
"I suppose so." Lawrence sat down, thoughtfully. "Claire has just scolded me for going out. She doesn't like to have me add to the bother I am already."
Claire was still under the spell of her own emotion, and she resented Lawrence's sang-froid. He was as cold as a block of stone. Her heart cried out against him because he could not see why she had said "No" to him, because he believed her! She wanted to cry, but did not dare.
"I told him we were worried," she said, indifferently.