Audrey hesitated. Evidently Natalie wanted to talk, to try to justify

herself. But the feeling that she was the last woman in the world to be

Natalie's father-confessor was strong in her. On the other hand, there

was the question of Graham. On that, before long, she and Natalie would

have, in one of her own occasional lapses into slang, to go to the mat.

"I'll come, of course, if that's an invitation."

"I'll be around in an hour, then."

Natalie was unusually prompt. She was nervous and excited, and was even

more carefully dressed than usual. Over her dark blue velvet dress she

wore a loose motor-coat, with a great chinchilla collar, but above it

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Audrey, who would have given a great deal to be able to hate her, found

her rather pathetic, a little droop to her mouth, dark circles which no

veil could hide under her eyes.

The car was in its customary resplendent condition. There were orchids

in the flower-holder, and the footman, light rug over his arm, stood

rigidly waiting at the door.

"What a tone you and your outfit do give my little street," Audrey said,

as they started. "We have more milk-wagons than limousines, you know."

"I don't see how you can bear it."

Audrey smiled. "It's really rather nice," she said. "For one thing, I

haven't any bills. I never lived on a cash basis before. It's a sort of

emancipation."

"Oh, bills!" said Natalie, and waved her hands despairingly. "If you

could see my desk! And the way I watch the mail so Clay won't see them

first. They really ought to send bills in blank envelopes."

"But you have to give them to him eventually, don't you?"

"I can choose my moment. And it is never in the morning. He's rather

awful in the morning."

"Awful?"

"Oh, not ugly. Just quiet. I hate a man who doesn't talk in the

mornings. But then, for months, he hasn't really talked at all. That's

why"--she was rather breathless--"that's why I went out with Rodney last

night."

"I don't think Clayton would mind, if you told him first. It's your own

affair, of course, but it doesn't seem quite fair to him."

"Oh, of course you'd side with him. Women always side with the husband."

"I don't 'side' with any one," Audrey protested. "But I am sure, if he

realized that you are lonely--"