"Did you have a good time?" he asked, trying not to speak ungraciously.
"Y-yes…. It was a silly sort of a time."
"Silly?"
"I was rather sentimental—with Querida."
He said nothing—grimly.
"I told you last night, Louis. Why couldn't you see me?"
"I was dining out; I couldn't."
She sipped her chilled grapefruit meditatively:
"I hadn't seen you for a week," she laughed, glancing sideways at him, "and that lonely feeling began about five o'clock; and I called you up at seven because I couldn't stand it…. But you wouldn't see me; and so when Rita and the others came in a big touring car—do you blame me very much for going with them?"
"No."