Joan looked at her with darkening eyes, and left them abruptly.
4
"What on earth's upset her?" asked Lawrence, genuinely concerned.
"Nothing—why? She's not upset."
"She seemed angry about something."
"Oh, I don't think so. Probably her ankle was hurting her rather badly, only she didn't want to admit it."
"Well, I thought she was angry. But never mind, let's talk about you." And he edged a little nearer.
Elizabeth evaded the hand that hovered in the vicinity of her arm. "I'm so dull to talk about," she parried. "Let's talk about metaphysics!"
He gripped her arm now in a grasp that there was no evading. "Why will you always make fun of me, Elizabeth?"
She was silent, her head drooped, and he, misunderstanding the movement, tightened his fingers.