FROM THE LIFE
to something in my manner of which I was unaware—and said, jealously: "You mustn't blame him. He's been so good to me. He's—he's such a dear. It has all been more my fault than his. I wasn't brave enough. I'm not now. We were just—just children—innocent. We didn't understand. And we were—so happy."
"Oh, Flora!" he sobbed. They clung together like the babes in the woods. I felt like the cruel uncle.
I went back to the window. The lights of my car were burning in the street below. When there was a pause in their pitiful endearments I said, "We want to be in town early to-morrow morning." I couldn't stand any more of it. "You come along with me, Con, and we'll run in to-night, in the machine, sleep in my room there, and get hold of Bidey before any one else is given the part. I can 'phone up to the house and say I've been called in to New York unexpectedly. It often happens." I made a sign to her. It was as if we both knew that she was dying and we were planning to get him away in ignorance of it. She took it with just that face.
"Yes, yes," she said. "Go on, Con dear. Does he need to take his things? Let me pack them."
"And I'll run along, and telephone, and be back in ten minutes." I was glad of the chance to escape. "I'll toot for you."
She held out her hand. "Good-by," she said,
[ 206 ]
