He wanted to go and cycle with Edgar.

Yet he had not the courage to leave Miriam.
"Why are you sad ?" she asked humbly.
"I'm not sad; why should I be," he answered.

"I'm only normal." She wondered why he always claimed to be normal when he was disagreeable.
"But what is the matter ?" she pleaded, coaxing him soothingly.
"Nothing!" "Nay!" she murmured.
He picked up a stick and began to stab the earth with it.
"You'd far better not talk," he said.
"But I wish to know--" she replied.
He laughed resentfully.
"You always do," he said.
"It's not fair to me," she murmured.
He thrust, thrust, thrust at the ground with the pointed stick, digging up little clods of earth as if he were in a fever of irritation.

She gently and firmly laid her band on his wrist.
"Don't!" she said.

"Put it away." He flung the stick into the currant-bushes, and leaned back.