A woman will always make allowances for the man she loves, and she forced herself to believe that the period through which Wynne was passing would prove transient. When it had passed the real metamorphosis might come about—and the future promised to each other.
One of the greatest mercies is the survival of the hoping habit. In imagination it still seemed possible Wynne would turn to her with the light of pride and possession, and call her to his side because he needed her there.
So once more she harnessed her soul to wait, though the collar galled as never before.
IV
One night Wynne said:
“I shall tackle Quiltan tomorrow about backing my play. I would have spoken at the club tonight, but some one always interrupts. Think you could provide a decent meal if I asked him to lunch here?”
Eve’s spirits leapt.
“Of course I could,” she said.
At last, and for the first time, he was bringing his interests home. Unimportant though his words may have seemed they were full of the most glorious possibilities. It meant so much more than asking a man to lunch. It meant that, at a critical point, he and she would be side by side to discuss a great step in his future—in their future. Besides, it would be so splendid to meet Quiltan—to know and be known by a friend of Wynne’s. She suddenly realized in the three years of their married life there had been no friends—nothing but work and their partnership to relieve the grey monotony of existence. At the mere suggestion of Quiltan’s coming she was bubbling over with excitement.
“What’s the matter?” asked Wynne.