'What's the matter?' he asked at once.
'Nothing.' She might have known it was useless to make signs.
'But you frowned.'
'Well, don't you ever get a twinge?' she prevaricated.
'Toothache, dear?' Mrs. Batty clucked her distress. 'I'll get some
laudanum. You just rub it on the gum--' She rose. 'I have some in my
medicine cupboard. I'll go and get it.' She went out, and across her
broad back she seemed to carry the legend, 'This is the consummation
of tact.'
Charles stood up and planted himself on the hearthrug and Henrietta
wished Mrs. Batty had not gone. 'I'm sorry you've got toothache,' he
said.
'I haven't. I didn't say I had. My teeth are perfect.' With a vicious
opening of her mouth, she let him see them.
'Then why did you frown?'
'I had to do something to stop your glaring at me.'
'Was I glaring? I didn't know. I suppose I can't help looking at you.'
Henrietta appreciated this remark. 'I don't mind so much when we are
alone.' From anybody else she would have expected a reminder that she
had once allowed more than that, but she was safe with Charles and
half annoyed by her safety. Her instinct was to run and dodge, but it
was a poor game to play at hide-and-seek with this roughly executed
statue of a young man. 'Your mother must have noticed,' she explained.
'Well, why not? She'll have to know.'
'Know what?' she cried indignantly.
'That we're engaged.'
She brightened angrily.
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