outside the door of the library, but there was a room next to the library into which probably no one would come. Peewee darted into that room. Here, too, the door into the library was closed, and he went to it and lay down close to it on the floor.
"Go back further," he heard Beman saying. "Go clear back—back to the wedding."
"It goes still further back than that."
"Very well; but wasn't I right? The little fool was bound to marry you? Now the thing works out! I couldn't tell where Jeff Markyn's grandson would go wrong, but I knew he wouldn't go straight.
"No. You merely hated my family. It isn't the man who's injured that never forgives; it's the one who inflicts the injury."
Peewee grew tense with perplexity. What was the meaning of this talk? His father said something which Peewee could not hear.
"She came here,"—this was Beman speaking now—"several days in succession and sat by my front window where she could look out. She was watching, I discovered, for a boy she'd
