If she had had the
strength she would have struck him down with it on the floor of the
summer-house.
"How dare you use me in this way?" she burst out, vehemently. "Your
conduct is infamous. Defend it if you can!"
He made no attempt to defend it. He looked, with an expression of
genuine anxiety, at the fallen pipe. It was beautifully colored--it had
cost him ten shillings. "I'll pick up my pipe first," he said. His face
brightened pleasantly--he looked handsomer than ever--as he examined the
precious object, and put it back in the case. "All right," he said to
himself. "She hasn't broken it." His attitude as he looked at her again,
was the perfection of easy grace--the grace that attends on cultivated
strength in a state of repose. "I put it to your own common-sense," he
said, in the most reasonable manner, "what's the good of bullying me?
You don't want them to hear you, out on the lawn there--do you? You
women are all alike. There's no beating a little prudence into your
heads, try how one may."
There he waited, expecting her to speak. She waited, on her side, and
forced him to go on.
"Look here," he said, "there's no need to quarrel, you know.
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