It was after eleven when he reached her door, and as he made his apology
for having been unable to come away earlier, she complained that it was
indeed very late; the storm had made her unwell, her head ached, and she
warned him that she would not let him stay longer than half an hour, that
at midnight she would send him away; a little while later she felt tired
and wished to sleep.
"No cattleya, then, to-night?" he asked, "and I've been looking forward so
to a nice little cattleya."
But she was irresponsive; saying nervously: "No, dear, no cattleya
tonight. Can't you see, I'm not well?"
"It might have done you good, but I won't bother you."
She begged him to put out the light before he went; he drew the curtains
close round her bed and left her. But, when he was in his own house again,
the idea suddenly struck him that, perhaps, Odette was expecting some one
else that evening, that she had merely pretended to be tired, that she had
asked him to put the light out only so that he should suppose that she was
going to sleep, that the moment he had left the house she had lighted it
again, and had reopened her door to the stranger who was to be her guest
for the night.
Pages:
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529