In a few moments they left the table and went back to the living-room. But Gregory did not sit down again. He moved restlessly about the room, reading bits out of magazines which he picked up at random under pretense of trying to find an article he had seen the week before.
A little after nine he said he was tired, and had work to do at the office. When he had gone Mary turned to Jean.
"Well, of all the extraordinary manifestations! What on earth is the matter with the man?"
"How should I know? Nothing, probably."
"Rubbish. He got all fussed up and peevish about something. Do you suppose he was really hurt that we wouldn't let him in on the dinner?"
"No, of course not. Besides, how could he come? He always goes home over the week-end."
"I know. But there was something. I never saw him act like that before."
"Oh, men are likely to do anything. They're—they're so inconsequent."
Jean wondered what she meant, as she lit a cigarette and took the chair facing out to the tree tops.
But later in the evening, when they were not talking of Gregory at all, Mary said suddenly.