"I'll try to turn you into a British subject. One can't slam one's own country."
"How could you turn me into such an object, Lord Dankmere?"
"There's only one way."
Innocent for a few moments of his meaning she smilingly and derisively defied him. Then, of a sudden, startled into immobility, the smile froze on her lips.
At the swift change in her expression his own features were slowly and not unbecomingly suffused.
Then, incredulous, and a little nervous, she rose to prepare the tea; and he sprang up to bring the folding table.
The ceremony passed almost in silence; neither he nor she made the effort to return to the lighter, gayer vein. When they spoke at all it was on some matter connected with business; and her voice seemed to him listless, almost tired.
Which was natural enough, for the heat had been trying, and, in spite of the open windows, no breath of coolness stirred the curtains.
So the last minutes of the afternoon passed but the sunshine still reddened the cornices of the houses across the street when she rose to put away the tea-things.
A little later she pinned on her hat and moved toward the front door with a friendly nod to him in silent adieu.