She had guessed this earlier.

Yet the mischievous light in her eyes defied control.

He was warned in time and pulled himself up short.
"You read my face like a book," she cried, with a delightful little _moue_.
"No printed page was ever so--legible." He was going to say "fascinating," but checked the impulse.

He went on with brisk affectation-- "Now, Miss Deane, we have gossiped too long.

I am a laggard this morning; but before starting work, I have a few serious remarks to make." "More digs ?" she inquired saucily.
"I repudiate 'digs.' In the first place, you must not make any more experiments in the matter of food.