"Edwarda," I said, "do stop."
She had spoken very formally, which meant no good, and her look was
malicious. I thought of the Doctor, and shrugged my shoulders
carelessly, as he would have done. She said:
"But why don't you go out in the kitchen? Eva is there. I think you
ought to stay there."
And there was hate in her eyes.
I had not been to parties often; certainly I had never before heard such
a tone at any of the few I had been to. I said:
"Aren't you afraid of being misunderstood, Edwarda?"
"Oh, but how? Possibly, of course, but how?"
"You sometimes speak without thinking. Just now, for instance, it
_seemed_ to me as if you were actually telling me to go to the kitchen
and stay there; and that, of course, must be a misunderstanding--I know
quite well that you did not intend to be so rude."
She walked a few paces away from us. I could see by her manner that she
was thinking all the time of what I had said. She turned round, came
back, and said breathlessly:
"It was no misunderstanding, Lieutenant; you heard correctly--I did tell
you to go to the kitchen."
"Oh, Edwarda!" broke out the terrified governess.
And I began talking again about the war and the state of affairs in the
Crimea; but my thoughts were far distant. I was no longer intoxicated,
only hopelessly confused.
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