There were two other men besides the big blond in the party, and the wife of one of them—a balance wheel.
The big blond man stared at his hostess. He expected her to laugh at her own joke, but she did not. The others were discussing the relative merits of the Packard and Peerless cars. He waited a moment and then leaned closer to Nellie’s ear.
“Are you in earnest?” he asked, in low tones.
“About what, Mr. Fairfax?”
“Hubby. Have you got one?”
“Of course I have. Had him for six years. Why?”
He swallowed hard. A wave of red crept up over his jowl and to the very roots of his hair. 38
“I’ve known you for over a month, Nellie,” he said, a hard light in his fishy grey eyes, “and you’ve never mentioned this husband of yours. What’s the game?”
“It’s a guessing game,” she said, coolly. “You might guess what I’m wearing this little plain gold ring on my left hand for. It’s there where everybody can see it, isn’t it? You just didn’t take the trouble to look, Mr. Fairfax. Women don’t wear wedding rings for a joke, let me tell you that.”
“I never noticed it,” he said, huskily. “The truth is, it never entered my head to think you could be a married woman.”