"I've explained that I didn't mean to do it," he returned, dropping into the breathless undertone in which she spoke. "Happening to glance down, I saw a shoe-lace end and thought my shoe was untied——"
She looked at him scornfully.
"And I tied it tight, that's all. I'm horribly mortified; this is the second time I've appeared to disadvantage——"
"People in New York usually turn to the right; even horses——"
"I doubt," he said, "that you can make me feel much worse than I feel now, but it's a sort of a horrible relief to know what a fool you think me."
She said nothing, sitting there, cooling her hot face in the breeze from the forward door; he, numb with chagrin, stole an apprehensive glance at the passengers opposite. Nobody appeared to have observed their plight, and he ventured to say so in a low voice.
"Are you certain?" she asked, her own voice not quite steady.
"Perfectly. Look! Nobody is eying our feet."
Her own small feet were well tucked up under her gown; she instinctively drew them further in; he felt a little tug; they both coloured furiously.
"This is simply unspeakable," she said, looking straight ahead of her through two bright tears of mortification.