Her musing stopped abruptly. What did Cortland mean by avoiding her? And why was he leaving New York? There was a tiny pucker at her brows while she gave the finishing touches to her toilet; but when she went down to dinner her cheeks glowed with ripe color and her eyes were shot with tiny sparkling fires.
"Auction" bridge followed dinner. In the cutting Cort and the Baroness were out of it, and when Cort and the Baroness cut in, Camilla and Perot cut out. Fate conspired, and it was not until late in the evening that Cortland and Camilla found themselves alone in the deserted library at the far end of the wing. Camilla sank back into the silk cushions of the big davenport wearily.
"I played well to-night," she said; "I believe even Billy is pleased with me. I did have luck, though—shameful luck——"
She stretched her arms above her head, sighing luxuriously. "Oh, life is sweet—after all."
Cortland watched her.
"Is it?" he asked quietly.
"Don't you think so, Cort?"
"There's not much sweetness left, for me in anything. I've got to go away from you, Camilla."
"So you said." And then airily, "Good-by."
He closed his eyes a moment.