"You needn't," he said curtly; "I understand all right."
"If you did you wouldn't ask me. All the same, Walter—" She lifted to him the set face of a saint surrendered to the torture—"If you compel me—"
"Compel you? I can't compel you. Especially if you're going to look like that."
"It's no use," he said to Edith. "First she talks of dining with the Gardners—"
"She will, too—"
"No. She'll stay—if I compel her."
"Oh, I see. That's worse. She'd let him see it. He wouldn't enjoy his Christmas if he came."
"No, poor fellow, I really don't think he would. She's awfully funny about him."
"You still think her funny?"
"My dear—it's the only way to take her. I'm sorry, but I can't let Charlie spoil her Christmas; nor," he added, "Anne his."