"Heavens, Billy, it's a decent enough street," she said coldly. "Let go of me, and drive; you're blocking the traffic."
But, when he drove, she shared his sensation of their first departure for Clearedge Street when she had sat between Gregg and Billy and Gregg did the driving. Gregg!
How fine and understanding he had been, that night; she had not been able to realize it until long afterward; it seemed to her, indeed, that she only completely realized it now.
"What have you been doing, Marjorie? Doing?" Billy demanded and kept at her; but she now was hardly thinking of him. "I'll tell you when you get me home." She was putting off what they had to go through with until they arrived at Jen Cordeen's, when she would take it all together.
"How's Gregg, Billy?" she asked.
"I don't know."
"Why don't you know? Where is he?"
"I don't know where he is or anything about him."
"Why don't you?"
"Why should I? He's left the flat. Why should you bother about him? He knew where you were; that is, he knew you were going off with Rinderfeld!"
"Billy, let me out!"
"Oh, my God, Marjorie, you know I didn't mean that! But you made me beside myself. You did go off and gave Rinderfeld your address and you let him see you; and you told Gregg you were going—Gregg and not me! Why did you do that? You have to answer that to me! You're mine—mine!"
"No, Billy."
"Yes, you are. You promised yourself to me; you
