He had been prepared to find Joan amorously surrounded by the men of the party but not on terms of sentimental intimacy with a smooth-faced lad.

In town she had shown preference for sophistication.

He went across to the piano and waited impatiently for Joan to finish the piece which somehow fitted into his mood.

"Come out," he said, then, "I want to speak to you." But Joan let her fingers wander into a waltz and raised her eyebrows.
"Do I look so much like Alice that you can order me about ?" she asked.
He turned on his heel with the look of a dog at which a stone had been flung by a friend, and disappeared.
Two minutes later there was a light touch on his arm, and Joan stood at his side on the veranda.

"Well, Gilbert," she said, "it's good to see you again." "So good that I might be a man touting for an encyclopedia," he answered angrily.
She sat upon the rough stone wall and crossed her little feet.