I've been to sleep." Then, recollection returning to him: "By Jove! And you were playing to me--" "Yes," she answered slowly.

Her lips felt dry.

"And I'll never play to you again as long as I live!" He smiled indulgently.
"That's putting it rather strong, isn't it ?" he said, making a long arm and pulling her down on to his knee.
She sprang up again instantly and stood a little away from him, her hands clenched, her breast heaving tumultuously.
"Come back, small firebrand!" he commanded laughingly.
A fresh gust of indignation, swept over her.

Even now he didn't comprehend, didn't realise in the very least how he had wounded her.
Her nails dug into the flesh of her palms as she took a fresh grip of herself and answered him--very slowly and distinctly so that he might not miss her meaning.
"It's not putting it one bit too strong.

It's what I feel--that I can't ever play to you again." She paused, then burst out impetuously: "You've always disliked my love of music! You were jealous of it.