Dangerous Days

She held up a forlorn looking sock to his amused gaze. "And I think I'm

a clever woman."

"You're a very brave woman, Audrey," he said. "You'll let me come back,

won't you?"

"Heavens, yes. Whenever you like. And I'm going to stop being a recluse.

I just wanted to think over some things."

On the way home he stopped at his florist's, and ordered a mass of

American beauties for her on Christmas morning. She had sent her love to

Natalie, so that night he told Natalie he had seen her, and such details

of her life as he knew.

"I'm glad she's coming to her senses," Natalie said. "Everything's been

deadly dull without her. She always made things go--I don't know just

how," she added, as if she had been turning her over in her mind. "What

sort of business did she want to see you about?"

"She has a girl she wants to get into the mill."

"Good gracious, she must be changed," said Natalie. And proceeded--she

was ready to go out to dinner--to one of her long and critical surveys

of herself in the cheval mirror. Recently those surveys had been rather

getting on Clayton's nerves. She customarily talked, not to him, but to

his reflection over her shoulder, when, indeed, she took her eyes from

herself.

"I wonder," she said, fussing with a shoulder-strap, "who Audrey will

marry if anything happens to Chris?"

She saw his face and raised her eyebrows.

"You needn't scowl like that. He's quite as likely as not never to come

back, isn't he? And Audrey didn't care a pin for him."

"We're talking rather lightly of a very terrible thing, aren't we?"

"Oh, you're not," she retorted. "You think just the same things as I do,

but you're not so open about them. That's all."