Natalie was not a jealous woman. She had, for years, taken Clay's faithfulness for granted, and her own complacency admitted no chance of such a possibility. But she was quick to realize that she had him at a disadvantage.
“How long have you known it?” she asked him that night, when, after the long dinner was over, she sat with her elbows on the table and faced him across the candles.
He was tired and depressed, and his fine face looked drawn. But he roused and smiled across at her. He had begun to have a feeling that he must make up to Natalie for something—he hardly knew for what.
“Known what, dear?”
“About Chris and Audrey?”
He was fundamentally honest, so he answered her directly.
“Since the day Chris left.”
“When was that?”
“The day we dined there.”
“And Audrey told you?”