"Cracking! They're all worried already."
"We've hardly started. Slip your arm through mine, Clara, and I'll hold your hand. Dear little hand!" he said. "When I think that instead of that ring——" Here he choked and kissed my hand. Then I saw that Harry Delaney was just below the wall.
Carrie's voice broke in on our philandering.
"If," she said coldly, "you two people can be pried apart with a crowbar for a sufficient length of time, we will motor to Bubbling Spring. There's just time before dinner."
"I don't think I'll go, Carrie," I said languidly. "I have a headache and Roger has just offered to read to me. Do you remember how you used to cure my headaches, Roger?"
"I'd rather not talk about those days, Clara," said Roger in a shaky voice.
"I wish you two people could see and hear yourselves!" Carrie cried furiously, and turned on her heel.
"I guess that will hold her for a while," Roger purred. "Clara, you're an angel and an inspiration. I haven't had such a good time since I had scarlet fever."
Dinner, which should have been gay, was simply noisy. They were all worried, and it is indicative of how Carrie had forgotten her pose and herself that she wore her diamond necklace. Roger had been placed at the other end of the table from me, but he slipped in and changed the cards. There were half a dozen dinner guests, but Roger and I ate little or nothing.
"Act as though the thought of food sickens you," I commanded.