With a sensation of physical nausea, he heard her try the handle of the bedroom door. And then there came a knock.
"Let me in, ducky."
He didn't answer, but pulled the bedclothes over his head.
"Let me in, ducky. I want to kiss you good night."
In spite of the bedclothes, he could still hear her.
Receiving no answer, she beat upon the door again.
"Don't then"—he could still hear her—"You are no good, anyway."
XX
The next day Cora was not visible until about two o'clock, which was now her invariable rule. They lunched together. He could hardly bring himself to eat the comfortless meal with her. But, after all, he had taken her for better or for worse. He must keep his part of the contract, therefore it was no use being squeamish.