“My little Fay.... Never to dance again. I can’t believe it.... Never still from morning till night.... I’m sorry I was cross about the pendant....”
Claudia stole softly into the garish, pretentious bedroom that seemed to mock them all with its air of coquetry. The nurse had reduced it to something like order, but the thousand and one knickknacks were still lying about, and Claudia found the pale blue satin bows odious. Two tiny white satin slippers were on a chair. Claudia averted her eyes from them. They would never dance gleefully any more.
She found Fay lying with her blue eyes fixed wonderingly on the nurse, who was trying to induce her to take a restorative.
“Why are you here?” she was saying wonderingly. “You’re a real nurse, aren’t you? I don’t understand. Why am I—Oh!” She gave a cry of relief at the sight of Claudia that accomplished the conquest of her sister-in-law’s heart. “You’ll tell me. I like you. What’s the matter? Oh! I do feel that tired, too tired to move!”
“Don’t you remember, dear, the curtain came down and hit you. You—you fainted, you know. We thought we’d get a nurse, because you—you’ll have to stop in bed and rest for a while, and nurses know how to make one so comfortable, don’t they?”
Her eyes jumped and snapped. “Ill? Me ill? Good gracious! then I can’t play next week at Shepherd’s Bush? I say, I must let them know at once. I’m topping the bill, and——”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Claudia soothingly, “we’ll arrange that for you.”
Fay was silent for quite a minute, and Claudia wondered of what she was thinking, but she did not dare to inquire. What was going on in that unformed, unreflective brain? Had she any suspicion?
“I heard of a man being struck by a curtain once,” she said suddenly. “I must claim damages immediately. You instruct Samuels.... The pendant didn’t bring me luck, after all.... I ought to get heavy damages. I’ll talk to Samuels about it to-morrow.”