"Spawn of Infamy" proved to be what Charley termed "High-life for low-lifers" and they were home shortly after nine. As they mounted the first flight Evan perceived a crack of light under Corinna's door and his heart rose. She was home early, she had not had a good time then. But as they rounded the landing he heard her voice inside. She had a visitor—alone in there with her! A horrible spasm of pain contracted his breast. He had much ado to restrain himself from beating with his fists on the door. He followed Charley up-stairs grinding his teeth. He had never suspected that such raging devils lay dormant in his blood.
When they got up-stairs it was quite impossible for Evan to remain there. For a moment or two he walked up and down like something caged; he could not pretend to hide the feelings that were tearing him. Charley glancing at him wonderingly out of the tail of his eye, bustled about talking foolishly.
Finally Evan said thickly: "It's stuffy up here. I'm going down to walk around the Park awhile."
Charley's eyes followed him compassionately. Charley's time to experience this sort of thing had not arrived.
When he started Evan honestly intended to go down in the Park and calm himself with the exercise of walking. But unfortunately he had to pass her door. In spite of himself he stopped there, and despising himself, listened. He heard her say: "I won't sing to-night. I'm not in the humour." Then he heard a man's voice low and urgent, and he saw red. He knocked.
She came promptly and opened the door, opened it wide. She did not quail when she saw his lowering face.
"Good evening," she said with the upward inflection meaning: "What do you want?"
Her tone flatly denied their intimacy of the night before. This aspect of a woman's nature was new to Evan; he was astonished and hotly indignant.
"May I come in?" he asked stiffly.
"Certainly," she said promptly and indifferently, and threw the door open wide.