Then he turned. "You oughtn't to come
here, Edith. I've told you about that."
"I had to see you, Lou."
"Well, take a good look, then," he said. Her coming fitted in well
with the complacence of his mood. Yes, life was good, so long as
it held power, and drink, and women.
He stooped to kiss her, but although she accepted the caress, she
did not return it.
"Not mad at me, Miss Boyd, are you?"
"No. Lou, I'm frightened!"
CHAPTER XIV
On clear Sundays Anthony Cardew played golf all day. He kept his
religious observances for bad weather, but at such times as he
attended service he did it with the decorum and dignity of a Cardew,
who bowed to his God but to nothing else. He made the responses
properly and with a certain unction, and sat during the sermon with
a vigilant eye on the choir boys, who wriggled. Now and then,
however, the eye wandered to the great stained glass window which
was a memorial to his wife. It said beneath: "In memoriam, Lilian
Lethbridge Cardew."
He thought there was too much yellow in John the Baptist. On the
Sunday afternoon following her ride into the city with Louis Akers,
Lily found herself alone.
Pages:
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199