“Well,” he said, with a humourous glance at her, “I haven't seen you for ages. That's not wholesome for me, you know.”
“But you see me now; and it does not seem to benefit you.”
“I feel much better,” he insisted, laughing; and her blue eyes grew very lovely as the smile broke from them in uncertain response.
“So you had nothing really important to tell me, Mr. Siward?”
“Only that I wanted you.”
“Oh!... I said important.”
But he did not argue the question; and she leaned forward, broke a rose from its stem, then sank back a little way among the cushions, looking at him, idly inhaling the hothouse perfume.
“Why have you so ostentatiously avoided me, Mr. Siward?” she asked languidly.
“Well, upon my word!” he said, with a touch of irritation.
“Oh, you are so dreadfully literal!” she shrugged, brushing her straight, sensitive nose with the pink blossom; “I only said it to give you a chance.... If you are going to be stupid, good night!” But she made no movement to go.... “Yes, then; I have avoided you. And it doesn't become you to ask why.”