She was tired, and something that seemed like a hand pressed her forehead tightly, but the near-by sound of incessant traffic sent her blood spinning, and she opened her eyes and gave a little laugh and went out.
Martin was on his way downstairs.

He drew up abruptly.

"Oh, hello!" he said.
"Oh, hello!" said Joan.
He was in evening clothes.

His face had lost its tan and his eyes their clear country early-to-bed look.

"You've had a tea-fight, I see.