3
They had said good-night to Clive and came back to the studio. Rose-Ann turned to Felix suddenly, just inside the closed door.
“You remember what I told you here—a little while ago,” she began.
“Yes,” he said, doubtfully.
She looked at him earnestly. “I meant it, you know,” she said.
“Oh—that!”
“Yes.... I’m terribly glad it wasn’t true, what I thought—about you and Dorothy. But if it had been—!”
“Don’t let’s talk about it,” he said uncomfortably.
“But Felix!” she protested.
“Well?”
“I know I was crying, and behaving like a silly idiot and everything—but you must believe that I meant what I said. Do you, Felix?”
Her face was grave now, her eyes solemn. Something in his heart leaped to rejoice in the courage that lay behind her utterance. He wanted to believe it, and at the same time he feared to believe it.
She read the doubt in his eyes.
“You don’t believe me?” she said. “If the time ever comes to prove it, Felix—”
He smiled. “We’ll cross our bridges when we come to them,” he said.
Book Five
Garfield Boulevard