Between courses her hand would seek his, gripping it as if in some nameless dread.

He became worried about her state; his own appetite suffered.
Once she said as her hot hand clung to his, "I know where you'll be to-morrow night." Her voice grew mournful, despairing.

"And I know perfectly well it's no good asking you to stay away." He let this pass.

Could it be that the girl was already babbling in delirium?
"And all the time," she presently went on, "I'll simply be sick a-bed, picking at the covers, all blue around the gills.

That'll be me, while you're off to your old motion picture--'the so-called art of the motion picture,'" she concluded with a careful imitation of her father's manner.
He tried to determine whether she were serious or jesting.