She rang Feathers up, but he was out and not expected in till late. Fate seemed against her at every turn.
"I must see him again; I must!" she told herself feverishly as she went to bed. She sat at the open window for a long time looking into the darkness. Another forty-eight hours and he would be miles away. She thought of all the pictures she had seen of Florence and Venice, and wondered what it would be like to visit them with the man one loved.
Chris had offered to take her there, but she did not want to go with Chris—he did not care for her! He had lied to her and deceived her. She lay awake for hours, staring through the open window at a single star that shone like a diamond in the dark sky.
Where was Chris now, and what was he doing! She tried to believe that she did not care; tried to keep her thoughts focussed on Feathers, but they strayed back again and again to her husband.
Little forgotten incidents of the past danced before her eyes torturingly—Chris in his first Eton suit; Chris when he was captain of the school eleven, swaggering about on the green; Chris coming home for Christmas, a little shy and superior; Chris bullying her, and teasing her, and finally buying his complete 248 forgiveness by a kiss snatched under the mistletoe. She had loved him so much—had always been so ready to forgive and forget. Tears lay on her cheeks because she knew she was no longer ready to do so; tears of self-pity—shed in mourning over the days that were gone. She was a child no longer; she was a grown woman looking back on her childhood.
It was getting light when she fell asleep, and it was late when the maid roused her.
"I came before, but you were sleeping so sweetly I did not like to wake you," she apologized. Marie got up and dressed with a curious feeling of finality. Everything was at an end now; she would bear no more.
In the middle of the morning a wire came from Chris to say he would be at home to dinner that evening.
Miss Chester was dining out, and Marie knew she would have to meet him alone, but she did not care. She welcomed anything that hurried the ending towards which she was drifting. Each moment seemed like the snapping of another link in the chain of her bondage.
Chris arrived earlier than he expected. It was only five o'clock when she heard his key in the door and his step in the hall.