She liked him so much, but she understood him so little. She rose reluctantly when presently he called to her that it was time to make a start. She went over and stood beside him.
"You're not angry with me, are you?" she asked hesitatingly.
She thought at first he had not heard, until he said brusquely:
"I'm never angry with you—only with myself."
He picked up her coat from the grass. "Put this on—you mustn't take cold."
But he made no attempt to help her into it, and there was a little hurt look on her face as she turned away.
She was sure that she had somehow annoyed him, but could not understand in what way. She supposed it must be just her stupidity!
"And where shall we go next time?" she asked, as they neared London on the way home. "Can't we go out again to-morrow, if you are not engaged?"
Feathers did not answer at once; then he said rather stiffly: "Chris may be home."
Marie laughed cynically.