He was thoroughly contrite about it, and he did his best to recover an
appearance of friendly good will. He didn't demur to her wish to be put
on a car, and at the crossing where they waited for it, after an almost
silent walk, he did manage to shake hands and wish her luck and tell her
she'd hear from him soon, in a way that he felt reassured her.
But he kicked his way to the curb after the car had carried her off, and
marched to his hotel in a sort of baffled fury. He didn't know exactly
what had gone wrong about the evening. He couldn't, in phrases, tell
himself just what it was he'd wanted. But he did know, with a perfectly
abysmal conviction, that he was a fool!
CHAPTER X
THE VOICE OF THE WORLD
If you were to accost the average layman, especially the layman who has,
at one time or another, found his personal affairs, or those of his
friends, casually illuminated by the straying search-light of newspaper
notoriety, and put this hypothetical question to him: What chance would
there be that a young married woman, who, in a social sense, really
"belonged," could leave her husband for a musical-comedy chorus in the
city he lived in, and escape having the fact chronicled in the daily
press?--that layman would tell you that there was simply no chance at
all.
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