Clara's movements as she blew her hair came to a halt. She looked back at him, thinking that his face had grown so thick-skinned to say such a thing with a straight face.
She wasn't without her hands or feet, did she need his help getting dressed?
He was probably just trying to take advantage of the situation.
Edward wasn't joking; he had already gone back to the master bedroom's wardrobe to find clothes. In no time, he came back holding a light gray dress, and along with it, he had grabbed some underwear.
Clara felt a chill down her spine. What game was he playing now?
"Edward, can I not go? I'm a bit tired."
She wanted to say she was a bit exhausted, but she was afraid he'd become smug if she did, so she changed her word to "tired" to avoid giving him an excuse to feel triumphant.