Twilight Sleep
check and long white throat, stung the older woman to reluctant admiration.
"Am I expected to be devoted to you all?" Lita questioned.
"No, dear; only to Jim."
"Oh—" said Jim's wife, her smile contracting to a faint grimace.
Pauline leaned forward earnestly. "I won't pretend not to know something of what's been happening. I came here today to talk things over with you, quietly and affectionately—like an older sister. Try not to think of me as a mother-in-law!"
Lita's slim eyebrows went up ironically. "Oh, I'm not afraid of mothers-in-law; they're not permanent as they used to be."
Pauline took a quick breath; she caught the impertinence under the banter, but she called her famous tact to the rescue.
"I'm glad you're not afraid of me, because I want you to tell me perfectly frankly what it is that's bothering you . . . you and Jim. . ."
"Nothing is bothering me particularly; but I suppose I'm bothering Jim," said Lita lightly.
"You're doing more than that, dear; you're making him desperately unhappy. This talk of wanting to separate—"
Lita rose on her elbow among the cushions, and levelled her eyes on Mrs. Manford. They looked as clear and shallow as the most expensive topazes.
