“Of course, it is true. I—I—I see it’s true. I’m awfully sorry.”
“Sorry? What for?”
“That you came. That you fell, I mean to say. I—I—I don’t really know what I mean to say.”
“No wonder, poor boy! I landed right on you, didn’t I?”
“Did you? Something did. I thought it was the mountain.”
“You aren’t very complimentary,” she pouted. “But there! I dare say I knocked your thoughts all to bits.”
“No; not at all. Certainly, I mean. It doesn’t matter. See here,” he said, with an injured sharpness of inquiry born of his own exasperation at his verbal fumbling, “you said you wouldn’t, and here you are. I ask you, is that fair and honorable?”
“Well, if it comes to that,” she countered, “you promised that you’d never speak to me if you saw me, and here you are telling me that you don’t want me around the place at all. It’s very rude and inhospitable, I consider.”
“I can’t help it,” he said miserably. “I’m afraid.”
“You don’t look it. You look disagreeable.”