"I think," Ethel said, rising, "I'll go home now, please, Ben."
And as she remained standing, he arose too, perforce, and escorted her from the room.
"I'll order a taxi and go home alone," she decided, when they had their coats and were in the lobby.
"Home?" he challenged.
"To cousin Agnes's."
"No, you won't. I'll take you up to our house and see if mother can get some sense into you," he said with as much force and acerbity as the nearness of other people permitted. "Wait here; I'll have my car in a minute."
But he had to cross the street to get it; and when he reëntered the hotel she was gone. His first impulse was to follow her immediately to the house on Scott Street; his second was to drive so rapidly that he would pass her taxi and be waiting for her when she arrived; but he thought better of both plans. He remained downtown, calling Oliver's number after a while to learn that Ethel had arrived; then he dropped in at the opera, where he found his sister Julia and informed her that Ethel was in the city and he'd taken her to dinner. He saw his mother with her party of canteeners, but he only nodded to her.
It was while he was moodily sitting in the box with Julia's friends and pretending to be appreciative of Galli-Curci's "Caro Nome" that he recollected how Ethel had started to talk by inquiring about James Quinlan and Bob; and he wondered what place they had in the crazy business which Ethel had stirred up. His father—so Bennet assured himself—had been making his recent efforts to locate old Jim only because of that government insurance money; yet Ben-
