I went back to the kitchen, and watched Margaret clean the turkey and
make the stuffing. I thought I was much interested in that proceeding,
but all the time I was wondering what he was doing, and soon I couldn't
stand it any longer, and I went back to the living-room, which was also
our library, but he was not there. I went up-stairs, with "my heart in
my mouth," fearing he had gone. I found him, if you please, in my room.
He was looking at the photographs on my bureau.
I came up behind him, slipped my hand through his arm, and rubbed my
cheek against his sleeve. I could see his face in the mirror opposite
us slowly softening.
"Are you still angry with me for nothing, Roger?" I asked.
"Was this fellow Lawrence in love with you, too?"