“Yes, there’s truth in that. Nelly’s good to herself—what more is there?”
“There’s understanding.” He meant compassion, and his eyes filled. “Does she ever speak of me?”
It was beginning to rain. Large drops struck softly against the café window and thinning out ran down upon the sill.
“Oh, yes.”
“And she says?”
“Why are you never satisfied with what you have, Nicholas?”
Nicholas Golwein turned red. “One dish of cream and the cat should lick his paws into eternity. I suppose one would learn how she felt, if she feels at all, if one died.”
“Why, yes, I suppose so.”
They looked at each other, Nicholas Golwein in a furtive manner, moving his lips around his cigar—Nord absently, smiling a little. “Yes, that would amuse her.”
“What?” Nicholas Golwein paused in his smoking and let his hot eyes rest on Nord.