“Like it! I’m so excited I could scream. It’s wonderful. But do you think—”

She raised a hand. “Listen,” she said. “I’ve had to do a lot of hateful things in my time. Paying Bessie’s bills is only one of them. Let me have a little pleasure, Pat. It’s about all I have left.”

There was no answer to that, of course. She kissed me and told me to take the day off; but when I left her she had already lapsed into that strange new lethargy of hers.

The second thing which happened that day was a telephone call from Lydia. Her voice sounded strained, but she was calm enough. “I want to see you,” she said. “Something has happened, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you,” she said, and hung up.

I drove down in the new car as soon as I could. I was anxious, and I was not relieved when I saw Bill Sterling’s old car parked in the drive. As I stopped he slammed out of the house, and I called to him.

“Is anyone sick?” I asked.

He looked at me, but I don’t think he even saw me. The next moment he was gone and I was left staring after him. I went into the house then, to find Lydia in her living room. She looked shockingly ill, and it was some time before she could even talk. When she did I was horrified.

Don wanted to come back. After fifteen years of desertion and neglect he wanted to come home again.

A day or two ago he had called her from New York, saying that he was hopelessly sick and practically penniless. All he wanted was a place to rest for a short time, he had said. She owed him nothing. He had no right to ask it. But he would like to see Audrey before he died, and he needed sanctuary for a few weeks.

I listened grimly. “Sort of old-home week in the town,” I said, thinking of Bessie. “I hope you told him what you thought.”

“How could I, with Audrey listening?”

“For heaven’s sake, Lydia! What did you tell him?”

She threw out her hands with a helpless gesture. “What could I do?” she said. “I told him I would think it over and wire him. Then Audrey got hysterical and I had to call Bill. It’s been dreadful, Pat.”

“I don’t believe it. It’s a trick, Lydia. He’s not your husband now. He has no claim on you whatever.”

“Except Audrey,” she said listlessly. “Of course, Bill thinks I am crazy. Sometimes I think I am. But with Audrey caring so much—”

“Oh, damn Audrey,” I interrupted impatiently. “Don’t tell me he’s coming, Lydia.”

She nodded helplessly. He was coming.

I got the story finally. She had wired him to come for a short rest and had sent him the money for his fare. That had been the night before, and she expected him in a day or so.