"No gladder than those." Miss Partridge rose.
Catherine stood at the living room door, listening for the sound of the elevator. Charles came rushing back.
"You're sure you'll be all right?" That was his little flicker of contrition. "I don't like to leave you this way, but the tickets might as well be used."
"Have a good time." Catherine kissed him lightly.
"Wish it was you, going!" He was in fine fettle again, offering a small oblation before his departure.
Letty woke, complaining that she wanted a drink. Catherine sat beside her, smoothing the silky fair hair, until she slept again. Her forehead didn't feel so parched. But Catherine went to the telephone and called Henrietta. Bill answered.
"Oh, Catherine! Henry got your message. She had to stop at the hospital first. She'll be in. Is Letty really sick?"
"I hope not. But I need Henrietta's assurance."