“He may have a relapse.”
“We mustn't worry about what may come. He is better now. The chances are that he'll stay better.”
“Probably. I suppose, because I have been so ill—”
He felt the demand for sympathy, but he had none to give. And he felt something else. Natalie was floundering, an odd word for her, always so sure of herself. She was frightened, unsure of herself, and—floundering. Why?
“Are you going to be in to-night?”
“Yes.”
She gave a curious little gesture. Then she evidently made up her mind and she faced him defiantly.
“Of course, if I had known he was going to be better, I'd—Clay, I wired yesterday for Rodney Page. He arrives to-night.”
“Rodney?”
“Yes.”