Her tone pierced him.
'Oh! nothing's wonderful in women. You set the standard so high—the men can't follow.'
He stared at her, pale and frowning. She laughed artificially, but he could see the breath hurrying under the blue cotton dress.
'Not at all! When it comes to the serious difficulties we must, it seems, apply to you. Eleanor is thankful that you will take her home.
'Oh! I can be a decent courier—when I put my mind into it,' he said angrily. 'That, I dare say, you'll admit.'
'Of course I shall,' she said, with a lip that smiled unsteadily. 'I know it'll be invaluable. Please, Mr. Manisty, let me pass. I must get Eleanor her breakfast.'
But he still stood there, barring the way.
'Then, Miss Foster, admit something else!—that I am not the mere intruder—the mere burden—that you took me for.'
The man's soreness expressed itself in every word, every movement.
Lucy grew white.