Just as he had anticipated, the glass
door showed him Fanny sitting in the maple slatted-back rocking-chair;
Gregory, in blue, was present, but Helena not to be seen.
His wife's hands were lying idly in her lap, and she was gazing into
nothingness with an expression he had never before noticed, there was a
faint troubled doubt on her brow, a questioning expression about her
eyes. As he stood momentarily quiet he saw her hands slowly clasp until
he felt that they were rigid, and her mouth became pinched; her face
seemed actually hard. Gregory spoke to her, with his fat fingers on her
sleeve, but she made no reply, paid no attention to him. Lee could hear
Gregory's demanding voice; and then, gathering herself, Fanny sighed
deeply and smiled at her boy. She was wearing her pearls, her rings
sparkled in glittering prisms; and, as he opened the door, Lee Randon
wondered if he had forgotten an engagement to go out for dinner?
* * * * *
He asked at once if this were so, but found that they were staying at
home. She regarded him still, he realized, a little withdrawn in the
abstraction he had surprised. This, because it was so uncommon,
disturbed him, and he demanded what was worrying her.
"Nothing, really. What made you suppose I was bothered?" Her reply was
instinctive; and then, after a pause, she continued, more insecurely,
"I was only thinking about some things.
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