"Please don't look at me that way, Aunt Phoebe," she said,
when she discovered her there inside the door. "Here's a
horrible young villain who doesn't know how to behave, and makes
me do all the making up. I don't like him one bit, and I just
came to tell him so and be done. And I don't suppose," she
added, holding her two hands tightly over his mouth, "he has a
word to say for himself."
Since he was effectually gagged, Grant had not a word to say.
Even when he had pulled her hands away and held them prisoners in
his own, he said nothing. This was Evadna in a new and
unaccountable mood, it seemed to him. She had certainly been
very angry with him at noon. She had accused him, in that
roundabout way which seems to be a woman's favorite method of
reaching a real grievance, of being fickle and neglectful and
inconsiderate and a brute.
The things she had said to him on the way down the grade had
rankled in his mind, and stirred all the sullen pride in his
nature to life, and he could not forget them as easily as she
appeared to have done.
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