"What—"
"Oh," she wailed, "I've gone too far! Joe is—drunk!"
Willoughby's face went to pieces.
"Don't look like that, Nell! Don't! What of it? Just what we've been up to, isn't it?"
"How can you say that? Get my wraps. I am going home."
"Your car isn't ordered till eleven—"
"What do I care what I go in? Oh, I have been such a fool!"
"Don't mention it," grinned Crane as he wrapped her coat about her.
Gaily Crane waved his white-gloved hand to her, her face gleaming back pearl-like for an instant in the shadowy taxi; then she was whirled northward and lost in the snowy night. Back in his place next to Nellie's empty chair, he mused tenderly over the vagaries of a mere bachelor till the incomparable Austrian carried his mind off to where tone is reality, where there is neither marriage nor giving in marriage.
Nellie fitted the key into the lock. Her fingers shook. The apartment was dark except for a light in the hall, and as still as if it were empty. If only Joe would STAY asleep till he'd had time to sleep this horrible state of affairs away!