"But I'm sure—"
"You mustn't argue, Maryann," Laura interjected. "You have to understand that Adrian enjoys nothing better than showing off."
"Well, yes, it will be ever so nice," and she smiled quite sweetly at her host.
He, in turn, drained his cup, smiled back, and said, "Now, perhaps, I'll show you to your room. You must be tired."
"Yes, I am really. I'd like to go to bed." But on the contrary, she felt quite alive. She seemed light and very warm to herself, floaty almost. Maybe there had been something unusual about the tea. Or more likely it was something about the indolence of the big, quiet house. And the kindness, and the relief. She stood up with a sensation of complete contentment.
"I'll leave you in Adrian's hands then," said Laura, rising, "and bid you good night here."
