“I really did appreciate your invitation. I’ll be around very soon.”
After all, he decided, she was only flirting with him; her confidences were only a means of awakening his interest, stirring his sympathy. She had probably never loved Shepherd, but she respected his high-mindedness and really wanted to help him. The depression to which she confessed was only the common ennui of her class and type; she needed occupation, doubtless children would solve her problem to some extent. Her life ran too smooth a course, and life was not meant to be like that....
He was impatient to leave, but Mrs. Torrence and Henderson had started a phonograph and were dancing in the hall. Constance seemed unmindful of the noise they were making.
“Shall we join in that romp?” asked Bruce.
“Thanks, no—if you don’t mind! I suppose it’s really time to run along. May I fix a drink for you? It’s too bad to go away and leave all that whisky!”
The music stopped in the midst of a jazzy saxophone wail and Mrs. Torrence and Henderson were heard noisily greeting several persons who had just come in.
“It’s Leila,” said Constance, rising and glancing at the clock. “She has no business being here at this time of day.”
“Hello, Connie! Got a beau?”
Leila peered into the room, struck her hands together and called over her shoulder:
“Come in, lads! See what’s here! Red liquor as I live and breathe! Oh, Mr. What’s-your-name——”