He drove the car himself, leaving them together in the back seat; and all the way he tried to find some consolation for his great bitterness.
In all the world there was nothing but Frances Deering.
“I’ll marry her,” he thought. “I’ll have a home of my own. She’s a dear little kid!”
He must have some one, and he saw clearly that he could build up a good life with Frances. He was fond of her; perhaps he could love her, in a way. He could have a good life, honorable and dignified and comfortable.
Katherine’s flat was in a very second-rate neighborhood. That was just like her!
“What do I care at all for the neighborhood,” he could imagine her saying, “if it’s a nice flat with plenty of air and room?”
He stopped the car before the door.
“You wait here for awhile,” he told the children.
Going into the ornate entrance hall, he asked the colored boy to telephone upstairs to Mrs. Blakie that a gentleman had come to see her on business.
“You’re to go up,” said the boy.