She looked silently, intently at him, standing in the middle of the room.

He glanced at her, frowned for a moment, and went on reading a letter.

She turned, and went deliberately out of the room.

He still might have turned her back, but she had reached the door, he was still silent, and the only sound audible was the rustling of the note paper as he turned it.

"Oh, by the way," he said at the very moment she was in the doorway, "we're going tomorrow for certain, aren't we?" "You, but not I," she said, turning round to him.