"He's certainly keeping Tri-Lake humming."
"But he?"
Gregg took refuge in his privilege of silence.
"He's seeing Mrs. Russell, Billy is sure," Marjorie went on quietly. "Do you think Billy's right?"
"Yes, Marjorie."
It caused her no start or any agitation at all, Gregg noticed.
"When I went to see Mrs. Russell," Marjorie mentioned the incident again, "and she wasn't in, I never tried to find her again. My first idea—it's not easy for me to remember exactly what my ideas were in those days, but I think it must have been to tell her, no matter how hard it would be for me to speak to her, exactly what she was. But I guess it struck me, when I got back in that apartment where my father had been, that I didn't know; anyway, I couldn't even talk to the woman who was there. She was some one Mr. Rinderfeld had on duty, he's told me; she was there looking for Russell, in case he came back. Mr. Rinderfeld didn't know you'd found Russell then—and taken him away. You should never have done so much for me, Gregg."
After a while she said, "I told Billy this morning that I will never marry him; it's true, I never will."
Gregg drew up his paddle at that; they had been moving slowly. Drip, drip it went, over the side.
"He'll never marry any one else, Marjorie," he said, his voice as dead level as he could manage.
"I got afraid to-day about Billy."
"He'll never hurt you."
"But he might do anything to himself or to any one he imagined might hurt me; and Billy's not a slow one to imagine." Suddenly she shivered so violently that
