“I didn’t mean that.”
“What did you mean?”
The man was startled. In an instant a flush dyed his weather-stained cheek. Then it paled abruptly. He turned and flung his cigar at an open window. It hit the netting and fell on the floor. He sprang up and collected it again and turned to the girl sitting with her face turned away so that he only beheld the charm of its profile.
“Claire?”
“Yes, Ivor?”
“Would it worry you if I made another bad break?”
The girl shook her head.
“I don’t think so, Ivor.”
The man smoothed back his unruly hair.