“I've sometimes thought that Carlotta—but I am sure she is perfectly fair with me. Even if she—if she—”
“Yes?”
“Even if she likes Dr. Wilson, I don't believe—Why, K., she wouldn't! It would be murder.”
“Murder, of course,” said K., “in intention, anyhow. Of course she didn't do it. I'm only trying to find out whose mistake it was.”
Soon after that she said good-night and went out. She turned in the doorway and smiled tremulously back at him.
“You have done me a lot of good. You almost make me believe in myself.”
“That's because I believe in you.”
With a quick movement that was one of her charms, Sidney suddenly closed the door and slipped back into the room. K., hearing the door close, thought she had gone, and dropped heavily into a chair.
“My best friend in all the world!” said Sidney suddenly from behind him, and, bending over, she kissed him on the cheek.
The next instant the door had closed behind her, and K. was left alone to such wretchedness and bliss as the evening had brought him.