resolved his doubts. There was no doubt of Mrs. Markyn's unhappiness if she knew about him; she would grieve inexpressibly. Her desolation, her agony, were in his father's voice.
He drew swiftly back from the door. A servant had gone into the room opposite and switched on the light. Peewee had not noticed that it had grown dusk; the servant would come to this room next perhaps. He darted across the hall to Beman's den.
He sat there miserably. It was clear what was going on now in the library, although he could no longer hear even the voices. His father was begging Beman to change his intention. Would he succeed in doing that? Peewee had the feeling that his father was not the kind of person who could change any determination of that obstinate old man.
He had a sense of amazement of what was happening to his father. A man did something wrong; afterward apparently everything and everybody conspired to punish him. It was not perfectly clear to Peewee exactly what wrong his father had done with regard to Helen Lam-
