"Have you ever heard the like of it? She told me to get out! I shall leave
tomorrow."
"Have you found the galoshes?" I asked.
"Of course," he replied. "They were right in the passage. 'Here they are,'
I said to her. 'Yes, yes,' she said. 'Right under your nose,' I said.
'Yes, yes, go away,' she said, and began to cry. So I went away."
"She'll get over it."
"Do you think so? Yes, I expect she will. Oh, well, it's my opinion nobody
can understand women, anyhow. But they're a mighty sex, the women, a
mighty sex. They certainly are."
He sat on a while, but he had no peace of mind, and soon went out again.
* * * * *
That evening the lady was in the dining room before us; she was there when
we came in, and we all nodded slightly in greeting. To the actor she was
very kind, quite making up for her petulance of the afternoon.
When he sat down he found a letter in his table napkin: a written note
folded into the napkin. He was so surprised that he dropped everything he
was doing to unfold and read it. With an exclamation and a smile, his
blue, delighted eyes splashed over her; but she was looking down into her
lap with her forehead wrinkled, so he put the note away in his vest
pocket.
Then it probably dawned on him that he had betrayed her, and he tried to
cover it up somehow.
"Well, here goes for food!" he said, as though he were going to require
all his energy for the task of eating.
Why had she written? There was nothing to prevent her speaking to him. He
had, after all, been sitting on the doorstep when she emerged from her
room and passed him. Had she foreseen that the good comedian could not
contain himself, but would surely let a third person into the secret?
Why probe or question further? The actor did not eat much, but he looked
very happy. So the note must have said yes, must have been a promise;
perhaps she would not tantalize him further.