“So the policeman said. He thought it was an ordinary case of drunk and disorderly. He could hardly articulate, and couldn’t say where he lived or his name. The policeman says the more he tried to say it the more violent he became, and, as it happens, there was nothing in his pockets to identify him. He spent the night in an ordinary lock-up. It wasn’t the fault of the police.”
“I hope this won’t get in the papers,” said Claudia thoughtfully. “You know how Gilbert would feel that, Colin; can you——?”
“I’ll try. I must go now. Ring up Pat and ask her to come and be with you. Good-bye, Neeburg; I’ll ring you up and fix an appointment....” He turned to Claudia. “You were splendid when he came in. It must have been rather a shock to you.”
“Splendid! Colin, don’t laugh at me. I’m the least splendid of women. I ought not to accept that dedication. Take it out. I’m not worth it. If—if I don’t break all the sins in the Decalogue, it’s because—yes, I suppose it’s because I’m a coward.”
She lifted her eyes miserably to his, and at what she read in his some of the anguish and self-abasement in her heart was softened. For a few moments they stood silent, only their eyes speaking.
“Colin,” she whispered, her finger-tips playing with his coat, “do you still believe in me—after—last night?”
“If you told me with your own lips that you had committed all the sins in the Decalogue, I should not believe you. I think I know you, Claudia, better than you know yourself, and I believe in you more than you believe in yourself.... I shall be back in the afternoon, in case you want me.”
He was gone, but Claudia went upstairs with a load taken off her heart. She did not try to analyse the meaning of it, she only knew that the sting had been taken out of her folly.