“You know very well what I mean,” he proceeded affably. “You resent my recent observations on tough mutton for dinner. And you have mounted your high horse accordingly.”
She bit her lips to avoid laughing. He was so absolute, so obstinate in his own view of every incident, however trifling!
“I admit,” he went on, “that I was not polite. I might have expressed myself less bluntly. I also admit that I was conscious of considerable irritation. I—I apologise!”
She made a slight deprecating movement of her hand.
“Please say nothing more about it!” and her voice though soft, was very cold in tone. “I wish to forget the incident.”
He leaned against the doorpost in a drooping and dejected attitude.
“But you accept my apology?”
“Oh, certainly!”
There was a pause.
“I wish,” he then said, mournfully, “I wish I could find my pipe!”