She looked at him and then, with a gesture of impatience, turned away. But coming to her, he put his arm round her waist.
“Aren’t you well, dear?” he asked, with concern.
She looked at him again, but now her eyes were full of tears and she could not repress a sob.
“Oh, Eddie, be nice to me,” she said, suddenly weakening.
“Do tell me what’s wrong.”
He put his arms round her and kissed her lips. The contact revived the passion which for an hour had lain a-dying, and she burst into tears.
“Don’t be angry with me, Eddie,” she sobbed; it was she who apologised and made excuses. “I’ve been horrid to you; I couldn’t help it. You’re not angry, are you?”
“What on earth for?” he asked, completely mystified.
“I was so hurt this afternoon because you didn’t seem to care about me two straws. You must love me, Eddie; I can’t live without it.”
“You are silly,” he said, laughing.