Possibly the air and exercise mollified Sir Harry’s chafed spirit, or perhaps he realised that he had been rude, for instead of calling for a gallop as soon as they were on the sand, he drew rein and said, in a voice half surly, half apologetic—
“Not very much to say for yourself to-night—eh, ma’am?”
Eveleen turned innocent eyes upon him. “Sure I’m afraid to talk, Sir Harry. I’m in a shocking bad temper this evening, and I’d maybe say something I oughtn’t.”
“Meaning that I’m in a shocking bad temper, I suppose? My apologies, ma’am—my most humble apologies. Not that I ever do lose my temper—you’re wrong there.” Eveleen wished she had eyes in the back of her head, to see Brian’s face when he heard this. “I’m apt to be betrayed into using strong language occasionally—very wrong, I know, an
