Many little wrinkles gathered between his eyes as he contemplated this, and his brow moistened.  He saw no solution of anything-not a loophole left.

Through all this thoughts of Carrie flashed upon him, and the approaching affair of Saturday.  Tangled as all his matters were, he did not worry over that.  It was the one pleasing thing in this whole rout of trouble.  He could arrange that satisfactorily, for Carrie would be glad to wait, if necessary.  He would see how things turned out to-morrow, and then he would talk to her.  They were going to meet as usual.  He saw only her pretty face and neat figure and wondered why life was not arranged so that such joy as he found with her could be steadily maintained.  How much more pleasant it would be.  Then he would take up his wife’s threat again, and the wrinkles and moisture would return.

In the morning he came over from the hotel and opened his mail, but there was nothing in it outside the ordinary run.  For some reason he felt as if something might come that way, and was relieved when all the envelopes had been scanned and nothing suspicious noticed.  He began to feel the appetite that had been wanting before he had reached the office, and decided before going out to the park to meet Carrie to drop in at the Grand Pacific and have a pot of coffee and some rolls.  While the danger had not lessened, it had not as yet materialized, and with him no news was good news.  If he could only get plenty of time to think, perhaps something would turn up.  Surely, surely, this thing would not drift along to catastrophe and he not find a way out.

His spirits fell, however, when, upon reaching the park, he waited and waited and Carrie did not come.  He held his favorite post for an hour or more, then arose and began to walk about restlessly.  Could something have happened out there to keep her away?  Could she have been reached by his wife?  Surely not.  So little did he consider Drouet that it never once occurred to him to worry about his finding out.  He grew restless as he ruminated, and then decided that perhaps it was nothing.  She had not been able to get away this morning.  That was why no letter notifying him had come.  He would get one to-day.  It would probably be on his desk when he got back.  He would look for it at once.

After a time he gave up waiting and drearily headed for the Madison car.  To add to his distress, the bright blue sky became overcast with little fleecy clouds which shut out the sun.  The wind veered to the east, and by the time he reached his office it was threatening to drizzle all afternoon.

He went in and examined his letters, but there was nothing from Carrie.  Fortunately, there was nothing from his wife either.  He thanked his stars that he did not have to confront that proposition just now when he needed to think so much.  He walked the floor again, pretending to be in an ordinary mood, but secretly troubled beyond the expression of words.