"But—but—but—oh, come, Amory, this is absurd! You're—you're tired! Me and Britomart! Oh, c-c-come!——"
And then it occurred to him that this was a ridiculous answer, and that the proper answer to have made would have been simply to laugh. He did laugh.
"Ha, ha, ha! By Jove, for the moment you almost took me in! You really did get a rise out of me that time! Congratulations.—And I admit it is rather cool of Walter to pounce on the first name that occurs to him and make use of it in that way. Deuced cool when you come to think of it. It seems to me——"
But again that quite calm and unreproaching look silenced him. There was a loftiness and serenity about it that reminded him of the Amory of four or five years before. And she spoke almost with a note of wonder at him in her tone.
"My dear Cosimo," she said very patiently, "what is the matter? You look at me as if I had accused you of something. Nothing was further from my thoughts. I suppose, when you examine it, it's a matter for congratulation, not accusation at all. As Walter said, I don't want to fly at anybody's eyes. We foresaw this, and provided for it, you know."
At this cool taking for granted of a preposterous thing Cosimo's stammer became a splutter.—"But—but—but—," he broke out: but Amory held up her hand.
"I raise no objection. I've no right to. What earthly right have I, when I concurred before ever we were married?"
"Concurred!... My dear girl, concurred in what? Really this is the most ridiculous situation I was ever in!"
Amory raised her brows.—"Oh?... I don't see anything ridiculous about it. It received my sanction when Britomart stopped in the house, and I haven't changed my mind. As I say, we foresaw it, and provided for it."
"'It!'" Cosimo could only pipe—one little note, high and thin as that of a piccolo. Amory continued.