The Wednesday agreed on, arrived. Floyd left the house without seeing Julie; he was getting used to that; the entire morning she would be occupied with the boy, always in a wrapper with that disfiguring cap on her. She bathed, dressed, undressed the child like a professional nurse. Floyd protested in vain.
On the way downtown he telephoned the house.
“Is Madame awake yet?”
“Oh, yes, sir.”
“Connect me with her room, will you?”
Julie called “Hello.” He thought her voice had more life in it than usual.
“Julie, do you remember I was to ask Colonel Garland to dinner tonight, but if you are still against it, I can postpone it.”
“Oh, no! The dinner is ordered.”
“Thank you.”
He dropped the receiver with a guilty feeling. Perhaps he had been too harsh. He didn’t know what to do about her; he was quite helpless; life was becoming unbearable.