"To-morrow!" he called after her.
When she entered, Massingale was in the parlor, and the bamboo curtains at the windows were still tinkling, where he had been posted in watch. Nebbins had filled her with such a fear of the old ascendency that, despite the publicity of the room, she flung her arms about his neck and lay against his shoulder like a frightened fluttering bird.
"Ah, now I am happy!" she said softly, running her fingers in a caress over the tip of his ear.
"You change quickly!" he said coldly, resisting.
"You were at the window?" she asked, comprehending instantly the cause of his mistrust.
"I was!"
"I couldn't help it! It was—"
"Don't invent!" he said roughly. "I'm not in the mood!"
"No, no, I won't!" she said, with a sudden resolve. "Only, let's get away from here first. I have so much to say to you to-night!"
As they went down the steps to his automobile, she glanced nervously up and down the dimly lighted avenue. Nebbins was there, as she had expected, leaning against a stoop, his hat on one side, waiting to see if she would come out. She sprang into the closed car, extinguishing the light.