"You feel it, too!"
Brian forced a laugh in return: "It is the weather, I guess." He tried
to speak with casual ease. "The atmosphere is full of electricity this
morning. We'll have a thunder-storm before night, probably."
"And was it the electricity in the air that kept you tramping up and
down your room last night until almost morning?" she demanded abruptly,
with her characteristic opposition to any evasion of the question at
issue.
Brian retorted with a smile: "And how do you know that I tramped up and
down my room last night?"
The color in Betty Jo's cheeks deepened as she answered, "I did not
sleep very well either."
"But, I surely did not make noise enough for you to hear in your room?"
persisted Brian.
The color deepened still more in Betty Jo's checks, as she answered
honestly: "I was not in my room when I heard you." She paused, and when
he only looked at her expectantly, but did not speak, continued, in a
hesitating manner quite unlike her matter-of-fact self: "When I could
not sleep, and felt so as though there were somebody or something in the
house that had no business here, I became afraid, and opened my door so
I would not feel so much alone; and then I saw the light under the door
of your room, and,--" she hesitated, but finished with a little air of
defiance,--"and I went and listened outside your door to see if you were
up.
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