His expression was decidedly uneasy, but there was a certain grimness about him that did not seem to indicate the probability of any excessive show of docility in face of a browbeating.
"I don't say it," he said doggedly at length, "because, besides being rude, it wouldn't be strictly true." "I shouldn't have thought you would have had any scruples of that sort," rejoined Audrey, hitting her hardest because he had managed to hurt her.
"They haven't been very apparent to-night." Phil made no protest, but he was frowning heavily.
She leant slightly towards him, speaking behind her fan.
"Be honest just for a second," she said, "if you can, and tell me; are you tired of calling yourself a friend of mine?
Are you trying to get out of it?
Because, if you are, it's quite the easiest thing in the world to do so.

But once done--" She paused.

Phil was looking at her at last, and there was something in his eyes that startled her.

A sudden pity rushed over her heart.

She felt as she had felt once long ago in England when a dog--an old friend of hers--had been injured.