She remembered
that it was the anniversary of her coming to this house. She got out her
wedding-dress, and although it hung loosely, the maid draped the Silver
Fleece beautifully about her.
She heard her husband enter and come up-stairs. Quickly finishing her
toilet, she hurried down to arrange the flowers, for they were alone
that night. The telephone rang. She knew it would ring up-stairs in his
room, but she usually answered it for he disliked to. She raised the
receiver and started to speak when she realized that she had broken into
the midst of a conversation.
"--committee won't meet tonight, Harry."
"So? All right. Anything on?"
"Yes--big spree at Nell's. Will you go?"
"Sure thing; you know me! What time?"
"Meet us at the Willard by nine. S'long."
"Good-bye."
She slowly, half guiltily, replaced the receiver. She had not meant to
listen, but now to her desperate longing to keep him home was added a
new motive. Where was "Nell's"? What was "Nell's"? What was--and there
was fear in her heart. At dinner she tried all her powers on him. She
had his favorite dishes; she mixed his salad and selected his wine; she
talked interestingly, and listened sympathetically, to him. He looked at
her with more attention. Her cheeks were more brilliant, for she had
touched them with rouge. Her eyes flashed; but he glanced furtively at
her short hair.
Pages:
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373