"Do I?" She laughed a little. "It's your imagination, Jim. Let's sit down on this rock a while. I'm so tired," she added drearily.
He looked at her with close attention. Barton's figure was visible rounding a headland a few feet away.
"You're a little pulled down, Molly, dear, but we'll have you right again in no time," he said cheerfully. "Now that I'm free to use my brains once more, you and Margie sha'n't want for anything. How is Margie?" he suddenly asked.
"She's well," his wife answered listlessly.
He took off his hat, baring his head to the twilight breeze. The bay lay rippling in the distance, before a background of gold and purple hills. He drew a long breath.
"How good—how good it seems to be abroad once more! Hadn't we better be going, Molly? What about the boats?"
His wife kept her eyes fixed on a tuft of yellow daisies at her feet. Her voice was very low.
"Where are you going, Jim?"
"Where am I going!" He stared at her in amazement. "Why, home, of course. Molly, what's the matter with you?"
She sprang to her feet and faced him fiercely, her loosened hair blowing in the wind.
"You're not coming to my home!" she cried, a bitter, concentrated ring of rage in her dear tones. "You're not coming to mine! Do you think, James Fraser, that I've toiled and slaved all these years that you might have a comfortable place in which to throw off your prison fetters at your leisure? Do you think that this shame and disgrace mean nothing to me—the knowledge that our name is blighted, and that, wherever we go, we are likely to be pointed at and scorned? Do you think I can brush this knowledge aside, as I would brush away a fly? Do you think I have enjoyed slaving ten hours a day, with this remembrance raging at my heart and brain! And what does your coming out mean to me," she cried shrilly, her eyes aflame and her bosom heaving. "It means ruin—ruin. Margie and I have moved. People where we are now don't know you. They don't even know that I have a husband! They respect us, and now our lives will be ruined for the second time, and—by your hand!"
At her first words Fraser had sprung up like a man shot through the heart He swayed as he stood leaning heavily against the rock.
"Molly!" he gasped. " You never said"
"No, I never said anything," she interrupted. "It's been eating my heart out, and you never even suspected it. I never can live with you again," she said coldly. Her eyes repelled him.
She extracted a shabby pocket-book from her dress, and with shaking fingers undid the fastenings. "I have brought you some money," she
