Then what did he mean by it?
Was it that this excruciating evening, with its countless trials, had worn his patience absolutely through, and that he felt he must vent his fury on something besides Cariad? Was that kiss a kind of “let-fly” at me?
How frightfully unfair! As if I’d done anything but rush into breaches and make the best of things for him! Good gracious! I shall tell him exactly what I think of it all to-morrow!
* * * * *
But the evening held one last trial for me before I was able to slip into that springy snowdrift of a bed and lie tossing, indignantly awake, for quite an hour after I’d heard the motor puff off, taking Major Montresor to catch his last train up to town.
This trial was heralded by a tap at my door.
Enter Blanche in her débutante’s dinner-gown.
“How early you’re going to bed, Nancy! We thought you were still with Billy, but Uncle Albert’s taken him on at billiards—he says he’s playing worse than anyone he’s ever seen. Is anything the matter, dear?”
“Oh, no—nothing; why?”