They did have their walk the next night, Istra and Mr. Wrenn,
but Istra kept the talk to laughing burlesques of their tramp in
England. Somehow--he couldn't tell exactly why--he couldn't
seem to get in all the remarks he had inside him about how much
he had missed her.
Wednesday--Thursday--Friday; he saw her only at one dinner, or
on the stairs, departing volubly with clever-looking men in
evening clothes to taxis waiting before the house.
Nelly was very pleasant; just that--pleasant. She pleasantly
sat as his partner at Five Hundred, and pleasantly declined to
go to the moving pictures with him. She was getting more and
more tired, staying till seven at the store, preparing what she
called "special stunts" for the summer white sale. Friday
evening he saw her soft fresh lips drooping sadly as she toiled
up the front steps before dinner. She went to bed at eight, at
which time Istra was going out to dinner with a thin,
hatchet-faced sarcastic-looking man in a Norfolk jacket and a
fluffy black tie.
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