“What is the matter with me, Signora?” he repeated, slightly raising his voice.
“I don’t think you would be able to understand if I tried to tell you.”
“Why not? You think me stupid, then?”
An angry fire shone in his eyes.
“Oh no, you are not stupid.”
“Then I shall understand.”
Hermione hesitated. There was within her a hot impulse towards speech, towards the telling to this self-satisfied young Pagan her exact opinion of him. Yet was it worth while? He was going out of their lives. They would see no more of him.
“I don’t think it is necessary for me to tell you,” she said.
“Perhaps there is nothing to tell because there is nothing the matter with me.”
His tone stung her.