“There you are!”
She bit her lip and looked away from him, but he could see the expression of trouble that was upon her face, and felt compunction at having so over-eagerly pressed her.
“What an obstinate tease I am!” he said. “When I can’t have my own way, I’ve a beastly habit of plugging away till I get it, quite forgetting what it may cost the other chap to give it. What a clumsy boor you must think me; I deserve to be kicked. I ought to know well enough that you always have a real reason for what you do.”
She dared not reply, for fear her voice would betray her.
When they reached the hotel he went up to his wife’s room, hoping to find her physically better, and less querulous for her rest. She was lying on the bed, covered with a thick eider-down quilt, and turned slowly to look at him as he came in tiptoe.
“I was just going to sleep, and now you’ve roused me up,” she complained, and turned away again.
“I’m so sorry, dearie; it was clumsy of me,” he said, going round the bed, and sitting down on the side. He took her hand, which she let lie passively in his.
“Don’t feel any better?” he asked.
“My head’s not aching so much, at least not quite.”
“That’s fine. ‘Once on the mend, soon at an end.’ ”