"No," said Jimmy, "I don't think so. Why?"
"Because, if you don't want your study I'll sit in it."
"All right." He said it vaguely. But he must have suspected something was up, for he turned his head round and looked at her straight; and again he said, "Why?"
"Because," she said, "it's the only tolerable room in the house."
He flushed faintly at this. "You mean," he said, "it's the only one I didn't bother about?"
"I said it was the only tolerable one."
"I see." His flush went deep, and his mouth closed over his teeth.
There was no doubt he saw.
She had hurt him badly. It was quite a minute before he spoke again, and when he did speak you felt that he had yielded, in spite of himself, to an overpowering curiosity. He must—he seemed to be saying to himself—sift this mystery to the bottom.
"D'you mean," he said, "that this room doesn't—er—appeal to you?
What's wrong with it?"