Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. He appeared to thunder dire happenings if she did not obey him without further ado. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground. Furiously, she dashed his hands away. Kneebone's door, you begged me to await your return here, assuring me you would not detain me five minutes. ‘Tie a horse behind the carriage?’ he echoed incredulously. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house.
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