Natalie was in her dressing-room. She had not undressed, but was standing by a window. She made no sign that she heard him enter, and he hesitated. Why try to talk things out with her? Why hurt her? Why not let things drift along? There was no hope of bettering them. One of two things he must do, either tear open the situation between them, or ignore it.
“Can I get anything for your head, my dear?”
“I haven't any headache.”
“Then I think I'll go to bed. I didn't sleep much last night.”
He was going out when she spoke again.
“I came up-stairs because I saw how things were going.”
“Do you really want to go into that, to-night?”
“Why not to-night? We'll have to go into it soon enough.”
Yet when she turned to him he saw the real distress in her face, and his anger died.
“I didn't want to hurt you, Natalie. I honestly tried. But you know how I feel about that girl.”