Claire’s sobs grew fainter. She looked up at Dr. Elliott gratefully.
Alexis forced himself to a bitter decision. “How would you like to go to my apartment in Gramercy Park?” he asked with dreadful reluctance.
Surprise choked back Claire’s sobs. “Do you mean it? Wouldn’t I be awfully in your way?”
“Of course not. There is a day-bed in the studio where I can sleep. I have often used it.”
That was true enough. A burning mist clouded his eyes. He turned away to conceal it. With what memories of Anne was the alcove not hallowed?
Eyes upon his averted face, Claire’s lips quivered. “Have you given up your house in Long Island?”
He avoided her glance with a sense of pity. “I still have it until the first of April. However, I always sleep in town on concert days, and very often at other times. But you needn’t worry about being a nuisance, for I am leaving on tour the day after to-morrow.”
“Ah, yes, I had forgotten.” Claire’s voice sounded dreary. “There was something in the paper about it. If you will help me up, I think I’ll go and dress.”
Their arms beneath hers, she struggled to her feet.
“Do you feel able to dress?” asked Elliott as she swayed a little. “Why do you hurry?”