Martin nodded again and took a drink.
Carol bit his lip and put on his coat, tenderly pressing a scarf of coral pink under his collar.
“Goodnight. I’ll call you to-morrow, dear,” he said to Deane as he left.
When the door closed behind him Martin put down his glass and went over to Deane.
“It’s funny,” he said, “how friendships like this spring up.”
Deane looked away while she spoke.
“He hates you.”
Martin squinted through the window at the colors in the dusk.
“Have your fun, Martin,” she continued, “but not at his expense. Why were you so rude?”
“Because it’s the easiest way.”