enough; he could not see that she moved but he knew that she was not still. There she was, tense, eager, impatient to end the stale venture of this voyage, whatever it had been, and launch upon fresh experience. With him? If not, what did her cable and radio mean?
He waved and she lifted a hand. She responded to other greetings and Jay looked along the dock and discovered the slight, smart figure of her mother and the broad form of Mr. Lytle, who made him out and waved a stick at him.
"Heard you gave us a ring," said Mr. Lytle, proffering a cordial, soft hand. "Wished you'd come up. We'd a room for you."
Lida's mother inspected him with bright, black eyes. Under her small, black hat her hair was clipped like a boy's. She and her husband both were aware of Jay's situation with her daughter; for Lida, upon her return from Chicago, had disabused their minds of erroneous impressions. So Mrs. Lytle wanted to be cordial to Jay but she found it difficult; she felt a debt to him and she did not like that. She would have felt more at ease with him as a recognized wrongdoer.
"We are expecting both of you to stay with us," she said stiffly.
Lida disembarked with ideas of her own regarding her residence. She kissed her stepfather on the lips, her mother on the cheek, and she did not kiss Jay at all, but of him she inquired:
"Where are you taking me?"
"Plaza," he said; and while she talked with her mother,
