She ain't there." Lily cast a startled look upon him.

"Do you mean that Judy is not in the house--not in town ?" she exclaimed.
"That's just what I do mean," returned Trenor, his bluster sinking to sullenness under her look.
"Nonsense--I don't believe you.

I am going upstairs," she said impatiently.
He drew unexpectedly aside, letting her reach the threshold unimpeded.
"Go up and welcome; but my wife is at Bellomont." But Lily had a flash of reassurance.

"If she hadn't come she would have sent me word----" "She did; she telephoned me this afternoon to let you know." "I received no message." "I didn't send any." The two measured each other for a moment, but Lily still saw her opponent through a blur of scorn that made all other considerations indistinct.
"I can't imagine your object in playing such a stupid trick on me; but if you have fully gratified your peculiar sense of humour I must again ask you to send for a cab." It was the wrong note, and she knew it as she spoke.

To be stung by irony it is not necessary to understand it, and the angry streaks on Trenor's face might have been raised by an actual lash.
"Look here, Lily, don't take that high and mighty tone with me." He had again moved toward the door, and in her instinctive shrinking from him she let him regain command of the threshold.