She went white to the lips with fright. "How dare you?" she cried.
Lawson had thought of some flattering speech to appease her; instead his anger flared as hot as hers. "Did you not know I would dare anything?"
The piteous red flushing over the pallor of cheek and forehead told him the shot had told brutally.
"Did you not know I would dare anything to see you?" He pleaded conscience stricken at his blunder. "I asked you, I told you, the night you came home, to give me an opportunity to—to see you."
"You have!" she flashed, anger once more coming to her aid.
"You know what I meant, not with a crowd about you, but when I—I—you have made a hedge of your visitors," he accused. It was exactly what she had done, and done wilfully. "You knew I longed to see you."
Frances rolled down her shirt-sleeves and buttoned them coolly. "Will you walk into the library?" she asked icily.
"No!"
"I did not know you were fond of the kitchen. Have this chair," pulling Susan's low flag chair beside the window.