Her calm, unruffled acceptance of his incivility filled him with a cold resentment.
"What did you say ?" she demanded of him from the door.
He turned sullenly.

The light mockery in her voice stung him, shamed him--her eyes, dancing with mischief, held his.
"Good night," he said shortly.
"Good night," she said again.

She laughed and vanished.
For an instant Calumet stood, scowling at the vacant doorway.

Then he turned and went over to the table in the kitchen, looking down at the food and the dishes.

She had compelled him to be civil.