"Just a jumpy tooth." He sat down, reaching for the paper. "Your mother was worried about you. Said you went off with a darky hours ago."
"She didn't seem worried. I met her at the door." Catherine went out to the hall closet with her wraps. Her fingers brushed the sleeve of his heavy coat. If I can pretend, she thought.
"It was only Flora," she said as she returned. "She wanted a statement from me, evidence as to her character. That man, you remember, her puhfessional gentleman? He seems to have a scheme to save himself at her expense. We went out to hunt up a notary."
"You committed yourself legally to some defense of her?"
"Yes, indeed. Poor Flora!"
"Unwise, wasn't it? How do you know what she'll do with such a paper?"
"It seemed little enough to do for her. They want to prove she neglected her children."
"Didn't she?"
Catherine wondered; did he mean that implied comparison? At least he wouldn't drag it out, openly, if she ignored it.