“What did I come here for?â€� echoed Daisy, white with rage. “To make a fool of myself, of course. To warn you that your husband is going to get the call-lists for the past month from the super, and find out from them what numbers you’ve been calling up. That’s—â€�
“Good Lord!� gabbled the woman in crass horror.
Karl’s fat jaw dropped upon his fatter throat. He tried to speak. He could only gargle.
“That’s why I came here!â€� finished Daisy, striding past them toward the door. “To warn you. And now I’ve done it. Your husband’s liable to be streaking back home any minute now. And I’m going. And if either of you says any more about money, I’ll—â€�
She was making for the outer door. But for all her start, Karl reached it three lengths ahead of her. He banged it shut after him as he darted out. Through the panel Daisy could hear him ringing frantically for the elevator.
Daisy was following, when a choking sound made her turn back. The woman still stood in the middle of the living-room. Her hard, light eyes were dark and dilated. Her sallow face was haggard and ghastly. Yet her features were unmoved. There was about her bearing and expression a certain hopeless courage that lent dignity to the squat figure.
Daisy hesitated—then turned back into the room. The woman stared dully past her toward the doorway through which Karl had vanished. She acknowledged the girl’s presence by muttering, in a curiously dead voice, more to herself than to Daisy:
“Men are queer animals, aren’t they? He has sworn to me, time and again, that he’d stand by me to the end.�
“Yes,â€� assented Daisy in perfect simplicity, “I’ve heard him say it to you myself—twice.â€�
“He’s gone,â€� went on the woman in that same dead voice so unlike her own. “He’s gone. And I’m left to hold the bag. I—I think I’m cured. There are worse things than a husband who loves you—even if he can’t give you all the money you want to spend. Phil would never have run away like that, from anything—not that the lesson is likely to do me any good, now.â€�