next, and why she had so abruptly lost the thread of her discourse.
In the pause she heard him cough slightly and clear his throat. "Let me say, then," he began, "that I'm glad too—immensely glad that your own future is so satisfactorily settled."
She lifted her glance again to his walled face, in which not a muscle stirred.
"Yes: it—it makes everything easier for you, doesn't it?"
"For you too, I hope." He paused, and then went on: "I want also to tell you that I perfectly understand—"
"Oh," she interrupted, "so do I; your point of view, I mean."
They were again silent.
"Nick, why can't we be friends real friends? Won't it be easier?" she broke out at last with twitching lips.
"Easier—?"
"I mean, about talking things over—arrangements. There are arrangements to be made, I suppose?"
"I suppose so." He hesitated. "I'm doing what I'm told—simply following out instructions. The business is easy enough, apparently. I'm taking the necessary steps—"
She reddened a little, and drew a gasping breath. "The necessary steps: what are they? Everything the lawyers tell one is so confusing. . . . I don't yet understand—how it's done."
