"It is very spirited of you," she said, with her provocative, mischievous twinkle. "But you need not act quite so hard, need you? At any rate till he sees us."
He made a wry face. "Not much fun in waiting till he sees us. It occurs to me this is a little game it pays to play in earnest. That is," he added pointedly, "if both parties are agreeable."
"Ah, that's the question," she said tantalizingly.
"Won't you answer it?" he asked insinuatingly.
"H'm! I rather like you," she admitted. "You are breezy."
"Thanks," he replied. "Then I ought to be in request on a warm day like this."
"Lord Quorn," she said with provoking irresponsiveness, "is breezy. But with him it blows from a rather different quarter. And he is apt to be a little gusty."
"Ah, yes. Dare say he would be," Peckover agreed, recalling certain squally passages in their intercourse. "Well, after all, a change of air ought to be grateful. Does you good."
Ulrica laughed. "With the wind chopping about there is likely to be a storm coming."
"Is there?" he returned. "Then let us take advantage of the fine weather while it lasts."