"I really don't see why you're so angry, Dick," she said, lifting candid eyes. "I explained why we had gone in my note."
"I didn't read the note," said Dick wrath-fully. "A thousand notes couldn't have explained it. I tore the note into little pieces."
Viviette rose. "If that's the way you treat me," she said, piqued, "I have nothing more to say to you."
"It's the way you're treating me," he cried, with a clumsy man's awkward attempt at gesture. "I know I'm not clever. I know I can't talk to you as sweetly as other people; but I'm not a dog, and I deserve some consideration. Perhaps, after all, I might have the brains to jest and toss about words and shoot off epigrams. I'll try, if you like. Let us see. Here. A man who entrusts his heart to a woman has a jade for his banker. That's devilish smart, isn't it. Now then--there must be some repartee to it. What is it?"
Viviette looked at him proudly, and moving in the direction of the morning-room door, said with much dignity:
"That depends on the way in which the woman you are talking to has been brought up. My repartee is--good morning."
Dick, suddenly repentant, checked her.
"No, Viviette. Don't go. I'm a brute and a fool. I didn't mean it. Forgive me. I would rather go on the rack than hurt your little finger. But it maddens me--can't you believe it? It maddens me to see Austin--"
She broke into a little laugh and smiled dazzlingly on him.
"I do believe you're jealous!" she interrupted.