When the car came up he released the knob and lifted his hat with a pleasant “Good-night.” She dared not pursue him in the garb she wore.
She returned terrified to her room. Then she ran to the telephone to pursue Cheever and warn him. They had quarreled at the dinner-table. He had left her on the ground that it was dangerous for her to be excited as he evidently excited her. It is one of the most craven shifts of a man for ending an endless wrangle with a woman.
Zada tried three clubs before she found Cheever. When she heard his voice at last she was enraptured. She tried to entice him into her own shelter.
“I'm sorry I was so mean. Come on home and make peace with me.”
“All right, dear, I will.”
“Right away?”
“After a while, darling. I'm sitting in a little game of poker.”
“You'd better not keep me waiting!” she warned. The note was an unfortunate reminder of his bondage. It rattled his shackles. He could not even have a few hours with old cronies at the club. She was worse than Charity had ever dreamed of being. She heard the resentment in his answer and felt that he would stay away from her for discipline. She threw aside diplomacy and tried to frighten him home.
“Jim Dyckman is looking for you.”
“Dyckman? Me! Why?”