“I—I want to tell you how happy I am over your success! I heard you at the Philharmonic yesterday and—and it was glorious!”
“You are always so generous,” he felt broken with shame.
“Generous! You call it that?” she retorted scornfully. Drawing her cape about her carefully, she preceded them into the living room. “Come in, Robert, I want you to meet my—my husband,” she added, with a pathetic assumption of ease.
A grim expression on his face, the young doctor broke his silence.
“I can only stay a few minutes. I ought to go back to the hospital,” he said gruffly. But if Claire needed him, he would not fail her.
Mme. Petrovskey smiled, as she caught his belligerent eye. “Do stay, we will have a nice little chat.”
“I hear you have been to the movies,” said Alexis, after they had settled themselves more or less stiffly about the room. Why in hell didn’t the man get out?
“Dr. Elliott is very good to me,” broke in Claire naïvely.
Alexis cursed inwardly. Did she expect him to thank the man for taking her off his hands?
“It is Mrs. Petrovskey who has been good,” retorted Elliott more gently.