"No, you're not; do let me call that cab for you; it's awfully unwise to walk on a strained ankle."
"Oh, for goodness' sake," snapped Joan, "do let me know for myself whether I'm hurt or not!"
She realized that she was behaving badly; she could hear the irritation in her own voice. Moreover, she knew that she was spoiling the walk by limping along and refusing to go home; but some spirit of perverseness was dominating her. She felt that she disliked Lawrence quite enormously, and at that moment she almost disliked Elizabeth. Why had Elizabeth accepted her hat from Lawrence's hand? She should have said something like this: "Give it to Joan, please; I would rather Joan gave me my hat." Ridiculous! She laughed aloud.
"What are you laughing at?" inquired Lawrence.
"Oh, nothing, only my thoughts."
"Can't we share the joke?"
"No, it wouldn't amuse you."
"Oh, do go back, Joan," said Elizabeth irritably. "You're hardly able to walk."
"Do you want me to go back, then?"
"Yes, of course I do; and put on a cold water bandage as soon as you get home."