"Sitting here with you? Oh, yes," she replied, in a gentle voice, but with a quizzical smile.
"No," he said, rather too forcibly; "flirting with Maxwell."
"I don't enjoy it at all," she remarked, plaintively.
"Then I'd be hanged if I'd do it!" he commented, emphatically. "I suppose he likes it, though."
"Rodney, please don't talk to me so."
Prudence suddenly lifted her eyes, and looked at Lawrence. Her whole face seemed to quiver for an instant with some uncontrollable emotion. Then she turned her head aside, and was silent.
Lawrence sat there rigid, waiting for the next words to be spoken. He did not intend to be the one to speak them; but after a moment he said, slowly forming his sentence:
"I think a friend would advise you not to keep up this apparent intimacy with Lord Maxwell."
Prudence laughed, as one laughs who will not weep.
"One must do something," she said.