like a knife, but never stirring like a spoon. If I were a really just
man," he went on, "I'd make you eat that burnt mess for your supper, but
I'm so absurdly indulgent that I'll share some of my bacon and biscuits
with you."

His tone as well as his words were irritating to one not used to
criticism in any form.

"I don't care for that sort of joke," she said.

"I wasn't aware of having made a joke."

"I mean your attitude as if I were a child that had been naughty."

"It wouldn't be so bad if you were a child."

"You consider me to blame because that wretched cereal chose to burn?"

"Emphatically I do."

"How perfectly preposterous," said Christine, and a sense of bitter
injustice seethed within her. "Why in the world should _I_ be expected to
know how to cook?"

"I'm a little too busy at the moment to explain it to you," Riatt
answered, "but I promise to take it up with you at a later date."

There was something that sounded almost like a threat in this. She turned
away, and walking to the window stood staring out into the darkness. He
was really quite a disagreeable young man, she thought. How true it was,