"Well—give over. I'm here. And it's a bad habit."
He shook his head, and went wandering on. "In this form I find it soothing and companionable."
"Well, you oughtn't to be needing either at Christmas time under my roof, with Roy here and all—if he'd only behave. Sometimes I want to shake him——"
"Why—what's the matter with Roy?"—That innocent query checked her rush of protest in mid career. Had he not even noticed? Men were the queerest, dearest things!—--"He looks awfully fit. Better all round. He's pulling up. You never saw him—you don't realise——"
"But, my dear boy, do you realise that he's getting rather badly bitten with all this—Indian problems and Indian cousins——"
Lance nodded. "I've been afraid of that. But one can't say much."
"I can't. I was counting on you as the God-given antidote. And there he is, still fooling round with Dyán, when you've come all this way ... It makes me wild. It isn't fair——"
Her genuine distress moved Lance to cease strumming and bestow a friendly pat on her hand. "Don't be giving yourself headaches and heartaches over Roy and me, darlint. We're going strong, thanks very much! It would take an earthquake to throw us out of step. If he chose to chuck his boots at me, I wouldn't trouble—except to return the trees if they were handy! Strikes me women don't yet begin to understand the noble art of friendship——"
"Which is a libel—but let that pass! Besides—hasn't it struck you? Arúna——"
"My God!" His hands dropped with a crash on the keyboard. Then, in a low swift rush: "Thea, you don't mean it—you're pulling my leg."