"Stay!" interposed Jonathan. It was dawn: Cathy would soon be off to the restaurant and Larry off to paint a house. “What ought she to do?” “Suppose you—” “Yes, suppose I—” He felt that his advice was being asked. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals. It was clear she wanted to get away from home, that she was impatient to get away from home. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. He was really very bright and clever, with a sort of conversational boldness that was just within the limits of permissible daring. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. That was an admission all right.
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