"I shall tell Danilo that I know Stillman."
But it was easier to rehearse the scene than to carry it out. It all seemed so simple in prospect. There was something awkward about forcing the subject, and when Danilo opened the way with some casual reference to his friend, Claire always had a feeling that the moment seemed almost too opportune.
One night she decided to make the plunge and hazard the truth. Danilo had run in for a moment between professional visits. He had a trick of snatching at these fragments of companionship, and Claire was getting used to his unexpected appearance at all hours of the day.
"I've.... I've something I want to tell you," she blurted out suddenly, as she stood before him.
Her melodramatic hesitancy must have made him apprehensive, for he returned, with an uneasy laugh:
"You're not tired of your bargain already, are you?"
"No ... but.... Well, I hope you won't think it strange.... The truth is...."
She stopped in confusion. He gave her a look of puzzled sympathy. It was plain that she was disturbed, and unhappy.
He laid his hand lightly upon her shoulder. "Well, if you're not tired, what does the rest matter? Unless, of course, there is some one else.... In that case...." He had stopped breathing and his lips were parted anxiously.
"How absurd you are!" She found herself laughing at him.