“I've taken your whole evening,” he said remorsefully. “Why don't you tell me I am a nuisance and send me off?”
Christine was still at the piano, her hands on the keys. She spoke without looking at him:—
“You're never a nuisance, K., and—”
“You'll go out to see Tillie, won't you?”
“Yes. But I'll not go under false pretenses. I am going quite frankly because you want me to.”
Something in her tone caught his attention.
“I forgot to tell you,” she went on. “Father has given Palmer five thousand dollars. He's going to buy a share in a business.”
“That's fine.”
“Possibly. I don't believe much in Palmer's business ventures.”
Her flat tone still held him. Underneath it he divined strain and repression.