“All right,” he agreed amiably. “Of course I can't prevent the others doing it.”
“It's generally you who lead up to it. Ever since you came back you've bored everybody to death with it.”
“Sorry,” he said, rather stiffly. “I'll be careful.”
He had a wretched feeling that she was probably right. He had come back so full of new impressions that he had probably overflowed with them. It was a very formal, extremely tall and reticent Clayton Spencer who greeted Audrey that night.
Afterward he remembered that Audrey was not quite her usual frivolous self that evening. But perhaps that was only in retrospect, in view of what he learned later. She was very daringly dressed, as usual, wearing a very low gown and a long chain and ear-rings of black opals, and as usual all the men in the room were grouped around her.
“Thank heaven for one dignified man,” she exclaimed, looking up at him. “Clayton, you do give tone to my parties.”
It was not until they went in to dinner that he missed Chris. He heard Audrey giving his excuses.
“He's been called out of town,” she said. “Clay, you're to have his place. And the flowers are low, so I can look across and admire you.”
There were a dozen guests, and things moved rapidly. Audrey's dinners were always hilarious. And Audrey herself, Clayton perceived from his place of vantage, was flirting almost riotously with the man on her left. She had two high spots of color in her cheeks, and Clayton fancied—or was that in retrospect, too?—that her gayety was rather forced. Once he caught her eyes and it seemed to him that she was trying to convey something to him.
And then, of course, the talk turned to the war, and he caught a flash of irritation on Natalie's face.