There was a trace of his old pomposity in the speech--or I imagined there was--and I chose to resent it.

These were the days when I was in the mood to resent almost anything.
"Why ?" he repeated, in surprise.

"What do you mean ?" "Why are you glad ?" I said.

"I can't see what difference it makes to you whether I succeed or not." He regarded me with a puzzled expression, but, instead of taking offense, he laughed.
"You've got a chip on your shoulder, ain't you, Ros ?" he observed.
"Workin' you too hard at the start, are we ?" "No," I answered, curtly.
"Then what is the matter ?" "Why, nothing, unless it is that everyone I meet seems to take such a great interest in my being here.

I believe all of Denboro talks of nothing else." "Not much else, I shouldn't wonder.