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"Not that your taste is not right, Natalie," he explained. "It is
exquisite. But these fellows are liars and cheats, some of them.
Besides, I like trailing along, if you don't mind."
Trailing along was a fairly accurate phrase. There was scarcely a
day now when Natalie's shining car, with its two men in livery, did
not draw up before Rodney's office building, or stand, as
unostentatiously as a fire engine, not too near the entrance of his
club. Clayton, going in, had seen it there once or twice, and had
smiled rather grimly. He considered its presence there in
questionable taste, but he felt no uneasiness. Determined as he
was to give Natalie such happiness as was still in him to give, he
never mentioned these instances.
But a day came, early in February, which was to mark a change in
the relationship between Natalie and Rodney.
It started simply enough. They had lunched together at a down-town
hotel, and then went to look at rugs. Rodney had found her rather
obdurate as to old rugs.


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