I swear no one thinks I'm
sarcastic. I promise you Bagshaw doesn't. Bagshaw thinks I'm a fool. A
complete fool. Look at lunch!"

She caught him up. She was really angry. "Yes. Look at lunch. That's
just what I mean. Any one that comes to the house, any of my friends,
anything they say you must always take differently, always argue about.
That's what I call sneering--"

He, flatly, "Well, that isn't sneering. Let's drop it."

She had no intention of dropping it. "It is sneering. They don't know it
is. But I know it is."

XI

He had the feeling that his anger would arise responsive to hers, as one
beast calling defiance to another, if this continued. And he did not
want it to arise. He had sometimes thought of anger as a savage beast
chained within a man. It had helped him to control rising ill-temper. He
thought of it now: of her anger. He had a vision of it prowling, as a
dark beast among caves, challenging into the night. He wished to retain
the vision. His own anger, prowling also, would not respond while he
retained the picture. It was prowling. It was suspicious. It would be
mute while he watched it. While he watched it....

He pulled himself sharply to his feet.

"Well, well,", he said. "It's not meant to be sneering. Let's call it my
unfortunate manner."

He stood before her, half-smiling, his hands in his pockets, looking
down at her.

She said, "Perhaps you're different with your friends. I hope you are.
With your friends."

He caught a glint in her eye as she repeated the words. Its meaning did
not occur to him.

He bantered, "Oh, I'm not as bad as all that. And anyway, the friends
are all the same friends. This place isn't so big."

Then that quick glint of her eye was explained--the flash before the
discharge.

"Perhaps your friends are just coming back," she said. "Lady Tybar."

The vision of his dark anger broke away. Mute while he watched it,
immediately it lifted its head and answered her own. "Look here--" he
began; and stopped. "Look here," he said more quietly, "don't begin that
absurd business again."

"I don't think it is absurd."

"No, you called it 'funny.'"

She drew in her feet as if to arise. "Yes, and I think it's funny. All
of it. I think you've been funny all day to-day. Coming back like that!"

"I told you why I came back. To have a day off with you. Funny day off
it's been! You're right there!"

"Yes, it _has_ been a funny day off."

He thought, "My God, this