“I shall be glad.”
“You won’t.” He spoke eagerly. “You won’t. To-night you may think you’ll be glad, but to-morrow—to-morrow you’ll be without him. Just think, you’ve kept him marking time all these years. He’s expected and expected. You’ve banked on him—felt safe because of him. You’re foolish. You can’t cheat at the game of life—you can’t even cheat yourself; in the end you’re bound to play fair.”
She didn’t answer.
“You won’t be glad if he’s not there.”
Silence.
“Is he going to meet us?”
“If he doesn’t—— She went no further.
“Will Cherry be there?”
Her face flashed down on him, white and stabbing. “Again. Always Cherry.”
Later she whispered, “Forgive me, Peter.”