But these days it was different, because she knew it was foolish to go on hoping that there wouldn’t be another call from Mr. Riley. That night, however, it was Jay. “Just got off the phone with Dad. Then he put George Cromwell on. They’re all delighted with the way you handled things. They’re delighted and I’m proud.” “I’m so glad, Jay.” “Now listen, I’ve decided that tomorrow’s the day. We’re going for the ring. I want you to meet me downstairs in front of my office at three. And I won’t take no for an answer. We can walk over to Cartier’s.” When he had hung up, she sat for a moment at the telephone, assessing her own feelings. Cartier’s. A ring, to make official the bond that was so strong and tight between them. She ought to be feeling unadulterated bliss. She was the luckiest of women! It was wrong and absurd to let fear, to let anything, spoil— The telephone rang again.
