“I want you to forgive me.... I couldn’t wait until you came home.”
She heard a slight cough, then came the reply.
“I can’t control your thoughts, Molly, but I dislike to have my friends illy spoken of.”
“I know! I know it, Theodore! But please forgive me, won’t you?”
“Very well,” answered Theodore, and he clicked off the ’phone.
Molly dropped her face into her hands. 194
“He hung the receiver up in my ear,” she muttered. “How cruel, how terrible of him!”
It was a wan, beautiful face that turned up to Theodore King when he came home to dinner. Too kindly by nature to hurt any one, he smiled at Molly. Then he stopped and held out his hand. The woman took it, saying earnestly:
“I’m sorry, Theo.... I’m very sorry. I think I’m a little cat, don’t you?” and she laughed, the tension lifted from her by his cordiality.
There was a wholesomeness in her manner that made Theodore’s heart glad.