Nick’s face kindled.
“Yes, she’s like that, isn’t she?” he answered eagerly. “Like a pale golden narcissus.”
They walked on in silence for a few minutes, the thoughts of each of them dwelling on the woman who had just left them. Then Jean said softly:
“So that’s the ‘prior claim?’”
“Yes,” he acknowledged simply.
“You never mentioned that she had a husband concealed somewhere. I quite thought she was a widow till she suddenly mentioned him.”
“I never think of him as her husband”—shortly. “You can’t mate light and darkness.”
“I suppose he’s an invalid?” ventured Jean.
Rick’s face darkened.
“He’s a drug fiend,” he said in a low, hard voice.