"Day," I said tremulously, "I'm a felon—a thief! I—I stole a lot of champagne last night and an automobile, and broke down fences, and almost ran over a policeman, and was arrested—or Ferd was—Day, don't look like that!" For his face was terrible. He had gone quite white.
"You!" he said.
"Get up and stand by the window, looking out," I implored him. "I can tell you better if I can't see your eyes."
So he did and I told him the whole thing. He never moved, and I kept getting more and more frightened. It sounded worse, somehow, when I told it. When I had finished he did not come to me as I had hoped. He said:
"I'd like a few minutes to get used to it, Fan. I'll go out and walk about a bit. It's—it's just a little hard to grasp, all at once."
So he went out, and I lay and cried into my pillow; but when the nurse had brought me some tea and raised the shades, and the sun came in, I felt a little better. He had not been noisy, anyhow; and in time perhaps he would forgive me, though probably he would never really trust me again. I got up in a chair and had my hair tied with a ribbon and my nails done, and put on my new negligée with lace sleeves; and I felt pretty well, considering.
At nine o'clock the policeman on the beat asked to see me. I sent down word that I was indisposed; but he said it was urgent and would only take a moment. The nurse put a blanket over my knees and a pillow behind me, and the officer came in. I was frightened; but after all my only real fear had been Day, and now that he knew, Fate could hardly have a fresh blow. But it had, all right.
"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am," said the officer, "but it's about your car."
"Yes?" My lips were trembling.
"It's been found; I found it—and only a block or so away, ma'am; but it's in bad shape—lamps smashed and tires chewed to ribbons. It's a sight, for sure!"