As he opened the hall door, Christine stirred in the room beyond. She came out fully dressed.
“K., are you sick?”
“Rather tired. Why in the world aren't you in bed?”
“Palmer has just come home in a terrible rage. He says he's been robbed of a thousand dollars.”
“Where?”
Christine shrugged her shoulders.
“He doesn't know, or says he doesn't. I'm glad of it. He seems thoroughly frightened. It may be a lesson.”
In the dim hall light he realized that her face was strained and set. She looked on the verge of hysteria.
“Poor little woman,” he said. “I'm sorry, Christine.”
The tender words broke down the last barrier of her self-control.