He patted me on the arm and went into the bathroom. I felt as if I were going to shriek.... _Will thought I was drunk...._ I looked at myself in the glass.... My face was drawn and there were red burning spots in my cheeks.... My eyes peered but like two burnt holes in a blanket.... Yes, it was plain to see that I was not myself.... I smothered a burst of hysterical laughter.... I started toward the bathroom where Will was preparing for bed. I intended to tell him that in all, during the entire day, I had taken only one glass of champagne--and that at his request.... Then I stopped. I did not dare to trust myself.... I knew he would laugh and pet me and say he had not meant to criticize and then he would take me in his arms ... and I would cry it all out upon his heart.... I would tell him the whole miserable experience ... and he ... what would _he_ do? If he called the doctor to account there would be a scandal.... It would be degrading.... I could never endure it.... _And if he did not call the Doctor to account--if he merely cut him without demanding satisfaction_, I should _despise_ him--I should _hate_ him.... "O, yes you would--you _know_ you would, though you wouldn't acknowledge it even to yourself" ... it was Miss Burton's voice.... "Take my advice--better not tell him at all." I switched off the light, so that Will could not see my face.... * * * * * CHAPTER XI I revelled in the heavy cold which kept me indoors. No amount of urging or cajoling on the part of my husband could induce me to see the doctor. Were I to express a preference for some other physician, Will's suspicions might be aroused. Experience applied old-fashioned remedies and in a few days I was able to be about the room. Mrs. Pease telephoned daily and called several times in person. Will saw her, but Experience had been instructed that I could see no one. During my retirement I had turned things over in my mind, arguing _pro_ and _con_ the advisability of a thorough understanding with Will. It appeared to me that the danger of such a proceeding lay in the tearing down of barriers which could never again be replaced--a rending aside of all illusion between us. Heretofore I had refrained from any expression of animadversion of his profession or his conduct. If he suspected any dissatisfaction on my part he preferred to let it pass without comment. Spasmodically he indulged in bursts of confidence--confidences of the kind not calculated to improve my opinion of his profession. At such times he appeared fully to appreciate the corroding atmosphere in which he lived. He even contemplated retiring from the stage. These phases were rare, however, generally attending a disappointment in a rôle, discontent with an engagement or unfavourable criticism of his work. The mood soon passed and he appeared to be content with the ephemeral joys of the moment.