"Well?" she said, cheerfully smiling.
"What have you got to say for yourself?"
"Lots of things. I had a lovely drive. I got through all my business,
and I have a beautiful appetite. I also don't like standing on a stair."
At her look he drew aside and let her pass into the hall.
"You promised to drive with me," he said, following her to a chair in
which she sat. "Driving with me is no great catch, perhaps; but a
promise is a promise."
"You were late," said Viviette.
"My mother kept me--some silly nonsense about vegetables. You must have
known it was something I couldn't help."
"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.
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