“Nina admitted it! You’re dreaming.”
“No. I’m very wide awake. I wish you were.”
“It’s preposterous. Whatever put such an idea into your head?”
“My antennæ.”
“Nonsense!”
“Listen. Nina called on Jane a while ago. They had a long talk. Something happened—something that has interrupted friendly relations. They don’t speak now. What do you suppose that talk was about? The weather? Or a plan for the amelioration of the condition of homeless cats? Oh, you know a lot about women, Phil Gallatin!” she finished scornfully.
“I know enough,” he muttered.
“You think you do,” she put in quickly. “The Lord give me patience to talk to you! For unbiased ignorance, next to the callous youth who thinks he knows it all, commend me to the modern Galahad! The one only thinks he knows, but the other doesn’t want to know. He’s content to believe every woman irreproachable by the mere virtue of being a woman. Nina Jaffray has played her cards with remarkable cleverness, but she has been quite unscrupulous. It’s time you knew it, and it’s time that Jane did. I would tell her if I thought she would believe me, but I fancy I’ve meddled enough.”
Gallatin took two or three paces up and down and then sat down beside her.
“It isn’t meddling, Nellie,” he said quietly. “You’ve done your best and I’m grateful to you. Unfortunately, you can’t help me any longer. It’s too late. I did what I could. No girl who had ever loved a man could let him go so easily, could doubt him so willingly. It was all a mistake. It’s better to find it out now than too late.”