“Excuse me a moment. He envied her a little. “Why not? Isn’t the whole thing a lie? Isn’t her reputation, this husband of hers, the ‘Alcide’ business, isn’t it all a cursed juggle? She hasn’t the right to do it. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. "Read the first chapter of Job"; beyond that, nothing. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. ” Lucy gestured to the Treehouse, which had been roofed and framed.
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