She was eating one of the sandwiches and
had already tasted the wine. Somehow, he knew quite well that she had had
no dinner.
"I want you to understand," he began, "that you are free to tell me what
has happened to-night or not--just as you please. Don't feel obliged to
explain, I'll be quite frank, I am a curious person as regards you. I
want to know--everything. I should like to know how it was that you were
unable to come to dinner or join us at the theatre to-night. I should
like to know what has brought you out of your house to an hotel at
midnight--but don't tell me unless you want to."
"I do want to," she assured him. "I want to tell you everything. I
think--somehow I almost feel that you have the right to know."
"Cultivate that feeling," he begged her. "I like it."
She smiled, a wan little smile that passed very soon. Her face grew sad
again. She was thinking.
"I dare say you can guess," she began presently, "something of what my
daily life is like when my husband is in town. It is little less than
torture, especially since he became mixed up with Mr. Phipps, that
horrible person Martin, and their friends."
"Abominable!" Wingate muttered.
"He is all the while trying to induce me to receive their women friends,"
she continued. "I need not tell you that I have refused, as I always
should refuse.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124