She smiled wryly. But there was triumph in the smile, too. She had them
now. The time would come when they would crawl to her to marry Graham,
to keep him from going to war. Then she would make her own terms.
In the meantime the thing was to hold him by every art she knew.
There was another girl, somewhere. She had been more frightened about
that than she cared to admit, even to herself. She must hold him close.
She used every art she knew. She deliberately inflamed him. And the
vicious circle closed in about him, Natalie and Marion and Anna Klein.
And to offset them, only Delight Haverford, at evening prayer in
Saint Luke's, and voicing a tiny petition for him, that he might walk
straight, that he might find peace, even if that peace should be war.