can trust no one—not even you. I mustn't believe that you don t know—it's preposterous. I must say over and over—even he is simply—will you pardon me—flirting, trying to learn what he can learn. I must."
"You can't even tell me why you wept in the station?"
"For a simple silly reason. I was afraid. I had taken up a task too big for me by far— taken it up bravely when I was out in the sunlight of Reuton. But when I saw Upper Asquewan Falls, and the dark came, and that dingy station swallowed me up, something gave way inside me and I felt I was going to fail. So—I cried. A woman's way."
"If I were only permitted to help—" Mr. Ma- gee pleaded.
"No—I must go forward alone. I can trust no one, now. Perhaps things will change. I hope they will."
"Listen," said Mr. Magee. "I am telling you the truth. Perhaps you read a novel called The Lost Limousine." He was resolved to claim its
