Something clicked and locked in his soul as if the machinery could not go on any longer without readjustment. He stood staring down at her, a growing wonder in his face, aware that she was looking at him and waving, aware that he was expected to smile. Instead he felt as if he were glaring. Was this the woman for whom he had spent two years of agony and struggle? This little empty faced creature with a smile upon her painted selfish mask? As he stood looking at her he was struck with a fleeting fancy that she resembled Clytie, poor featherbrained Clytie trying to exploit her own little self in the best way she knew, to play the game of life to her own best advantage. What was the difference between them?
Was it for a woman like this that he had wasted two of the best years out of his young manhood? He used to call her beautiful, but now her face seemed so vapid. Was it just the years that had come between or had she changed, grown coarser, less ethereal? A vision of Cornelia Copley floated in his mind. Why hadn’t he known sooner that there was a girl like that some where in the world? What a fool he had been!
Evadne had signalled to him and led her partner off the floor. Now they were coming to him. He wished he might vanish somewhere. Why had he come? This girl had no real need of him. She was merely enjoying herself.
“What made you so late?” she challenged gaily, “We’ve been waiting supper for an age. I met an old friend tonight. Bob, meet Artie Maxwell. Come on, I’ve had the food served in my suite, and I’ve ordered lobster Newburg and all the things you used to like.”
“I’ll answer for the drinks,” broke in the one called Bob, “I’ve sampled them already.”
“Sh! Naughty! Naughty! Bob!” hushed Evadne with her finger on her lips. “Artie is a good little boy. He doesn’t break the law—” she laughed. “Come on, Artie, I’m nearly starved. I thought you never would get here. Ring for the elevator, Bob, please.”
Maxwell’s whole being simply froze.
He didn’t want to remain, and he didn’t like the other man, but he could not ask her point blank what she wanted of him in the presence of this stranger. He was gravely silent as the elevator carried them to the right floor and Evadne did the talking. But when the door opened into the apartment and showed a table set for three with flowers and lights and preparations for a feast he made a stand.
“I can’t possibly stay for supper,” he declared, “I’ve dined only a little while ago, and I must leave for New York on business very early in the morning. I only dropped in to explain—”
“Indeed, you are not going to leave in that way!” she flashed upon him angrily, “I told you in my note that I had something very important to tell you.”