Gordon leant against the table for support.
“I’m not weak-minded,” he protested.
They waited until the sound of Diana’s footsteps had died away.
“This comes of trips to Ostend,” said Mr. Selsbury with a catch in his voice.
“If you’d gone to Ostend that couldn’t have happened,” said Heloise fiercely. “Does it occur to you that my husband has followed us and is at this moment sitting on the doorstep waiting to free your poor spirit from this earthly bondage?”
Gordon passed his hand wearily over his forehead. He was in the depths of despondency.
“I don’t care,” he said. “I don’t care about your husband. He’s probably a sensible man to whom one could explain things. Diana is so infernally sure of herself that you can’t argue with her.”
Sitting on the edge of the table, she had lit a cigarette, and was sending blue, twisting rings of smoke into the air. She did not speak for a long time, and then only to break in upon Gordon’s gloomy thoughts.
“My, I wish I was back home in my little apartment on a hundred ’n’ thoity-ninth Street!” she quavered.
Mr. Selsbury was visibly surprised. He had never heard her say “thoity” before.