Sally Dutton rose. "I'll go to bed too." As she reached the door she turned round and said, "At least I'll wait in my room. She—she can come in with me, if she likes, Andy."
"Thank you," said Andy gravely.
"What is it, Andy?" the Nun asked.
"A general break-up," he answered briefly, as he followed Sally Dutton out of the room.
The Nun sat on amidst the relics of her feast—the fruit, the flowers, the empty bottles. Somehow they all looked rather ghastly. She gave a little shiver of disgust.
Andy came in with Isobel Vintry clinging to his arm, Harry following and carefully closing the door.
Andy made Isobel sit down at the table and offered her some wine from a half-emptied bottle. She refused with a gesture and laid her head between her hands on the table. Harry threw his hat on a chair and stood helplessly in the middle of the room. The Nun sat in a hostile silence.
"She'd better go straight to bed," said Andy.
"She can have my room. I'll go in with Sally."
He looked at her. "She'd better have somebody with her, I think. Will you call Sally?"