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So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life. And I’ll have that story off you as we journey back to town. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. That won’t involve references, as a bank account would—and all that sort of thing. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog.
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