“Why don’t you go to the opera to-night? It’s the Sharrows’ night.”
He came toward her irresolutely. “Perhaps I shall,” he said. And instantly she knew he did not intend to go.
“I had tea at the Sharrows’,” she said, carelessly, still buttoning her gloves. “Elorn told me that she hadn’t laid eyes on you for ages.”
“It’s happened so.... I’ve had a lot of things to do–––”
“You and she still agree, don’t you, Jim?”
“Why, yes––as usual. We always get on together.”
Helen Shotwell’s ermine wrap slipped; he caught it and fastened it for her, and she took hold of both his hands and drew his arms tightly around her pretty shoulders.
“What troubles you, darling?” she asked smilingly.
“Why, nothing, mother–––”
“Tell me!”