“I did.” She hesitated a second. “I sent them to myself.”
He raised his eyebrows a little. “Well, they don’t suit you—that washy pink! May I ask why you didn’t wear mine?”
“I’ve already told you.... I’ve often asked you never to send flowers ... on the day....”
“Nonsense. That’s the very day.... What’s the matter? Are you still nervous?”
She was silent for a moment; then she lowered her voice to say: “You ought not to have come here tonight.”
“My dear girl, how unlike you! You are nervous.”
“Didn’t you see all those people in the Parretts’ window?”
“What, opposite? Lord, no; I just took to my heels! It was the deuce, the back way being barred. But what of it? In all that crowd, do you suppose for a moment—”
“My husband was in the window with them,” she said, still lower.
His confident face fell for a moment, and then almost at once regained its look of easy arrogance.